Still Points in Turning Worlds
by quintilis
Summary: After the wars, all they have left is each other: the comfort of friendship as they pick up the pieces and push them back into place. / 50-phase drabble series spanning all characters.
1. ONE: all

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

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><p><strong>ONE.<strong>

Sundays are for friends, and good food, and sitting in the front corner of that café five blocks west of the Orb parliament building. Sunday evening dinner started as a ritual in the weeks directly following the Battle of Messiah, when Orb hosted the peace talks to end the war. Cagalli took Lacus to eat there once as an escape from the chain of endless meetings. The next week, they returned with Kira and Athrun and spent the better part of four hours there, losing all sense of trickling time in the safety of camaraderie.

When Kira and Lacus left for the PLANTs, Lacus promised they would return every Sunday to that nice café, a thin semblance of normalcy as everything was changing. Life moved in circles within squares except for that one day of the week when the minutes would stop ticking again and the world became black and white outside of their table. They would talk about anything – the wars, the reconstruction, the Second Treaty of Junius Seven, how Athrun was in severe need of a haircut – it didn't matter as long as they were there, together.

Sometimes other old friends made appearances. Yzak and Dearka came every three or four weeks, and Miriallia would often show up from whatever continent she was exploring at the time to catch up on recent happenings. Mu and Murrue had a habit of dropping by on the most unexpected of days, and Andrew Waltfeld's visits nearly always included a passing insult to the café's coffee and him frightening other diners by shooting his left arm at the ceiling. Over the course of six months everyone from Arnold Neumann to Martin DaCosta had sat in on a Sunday dinner, all bound by the persistent threads that connected them for years to come.

And sometimes no one else could make it, so it was just Cagalli and Kira and Athrun and Lacus tucked into a corner until the city outside the glass storefront was dim and silent and the shuttle for Aprilius One would be departing soon. The pavements would be slick because it always drizzled in Orb after nightfall, and at the spaceport there would be a perfunctory round of kisses-on-cheeks and handshakes.

"Goodbye," Cagalli would breathe out, and each time seemed like the last they would see each other.

Their weeks and months and years would continue to march by at the same plodding pace.

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><p><strong>notes:<strong> A drabble series that I've already written 7,000 words for. Hooray! Updates should be regular; I'll try for daily. And when I say that the chapters will span all characters, they will span _all_ characters. (Also, I listed this under Athrun/Cagalli, because about a quarter of the drabbles will concern them, which is certainly a lot more than those dealing with any other people.) Hope you stick around!

NEXT PHASE: Lacus steps into her position as the provisional chairwoman of the PLANTs.


	2. TWO: Lacus

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

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><p><strong>TWO.<strong>

Even before the peace conferences at Orb began, Lacus started appointing her right-hand men. As the provisional chairwoman of the PLANTs, she found herself suddenly in control of a nation still reeling from battles long past, alone. She looked to the spirit of her father for guidance, and started the long process of building up her bureaucracy around her.

She promoted Yzak to the position of general, and only hoped that he didn't drive himself to a breakdown with the new pressure of heading the entire ZAFT military. Out of all the commanders during the second war – with the exception of Talia Gladys – he had proved himself the most capable. But more importantly, she trusted him more than any of the other candidates, so the title was his. Somehow she knew even before he accepted that ZAFT would flourish under him.

She made Kira a lieutenant general, right under Yzak. There was a small protest from the Supreme Council at that, but she silenced them quickly. Although Kira hadn't even properly enlisted at that point, she had complete faith in him. (Inwardly, she noted that the white uniform suited Kira very well.) He was an ace pilot in both wars, she reminded the Council coolly, and then they all quieted. Neither she nor Kira had wished for him to get formally involved with a military ever again, but he insisted that being close to her was what is most important to him, so she ensured that he was tied to national defense and not to field operations, and together they hoped that he would never have to be put in charge of an actual fleet.

There was a handful of other captains that she promoted to lieutenant generals, and more officers that she bumped up to major generals, including Dearka. Yzak stalked into her office the day after she handed him the list of new positions and roared at her about how he had never seen a soldier move up from a green uniform to a black so fast, and Dearka certainly didn't deserve the boost. She only smiled placidly and informed him that she had also specifically placed Dearka as his immediate subordinate, because she thought the two of them would appreciate seeing each other every day again. Yzak stormed out as irately as he had came, and the door slammed shut over the sound of her quiet laugh.

Lacus disassembled FAITH and held memorial services for the dead and reined in the berserk media outlets that would still not leave the death of Chairman Durandal alone. Still, there was more to be done.

The Supreme Council was an elected group, so she couldn't do much about some of the corrupt members already serving, but she pulled strings and started campaigns to make sure certain people that her father had valued (Ezalia Joule, Tad Elsman, and Yuri Amalfi) regained their positions and other honorable incumbents (Orson White, Alan Clarzec, and George Adaman) maintained theirs after the upcoming elections. The Council was the backbone of her administration and she needed balanced, experienced viewpoints behind her.

All this spanned several weeks, and when she finally had some sort of support structure fixed around her, Lacus breathed easily and enjoyed an hour's worth of tranquility before drawing a mountain of documents toward her and getting back to work.

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><p><strong>notes: <strong>Kind of dull, I guess, but I'm really obsessive about details such as ranks and things whenever I read GS/GSD stories. But it's smooth sailing from here on out. I just wanted to put some sort of explanation out there for the GSD Special Edition IV ending, where we see many characters in new posts and the like.

NEXT PHASE: Cagalli struggles with goodbyes as her comrades fade into civilian lives.


	3. THREE: Cagalli

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

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><p><strong>THREE.<strong>

Hundreds of thousands of miles from Lacus, Cagalli faced not the trials of jumpstarting a government but moving on personally. Once the peace talks finalized, all of the Terminal's and Three Ships Alliance's ships and mobile suits were prepared to be hidden underground in Onogoro, perhaps for good. With no reason to stay, the crewmembers of the vessels began to disperse to faraway reaches, and it pained Cagalli to see them go. It seemed like the abrupt end of something important to say goodbye.

"Stay," she asked Murrue and Mu, offering them high ranks at her side. They declined apologetically and mentioned their calm house on the coast. "We'll be close by," they answered, "You won't miss us."

Andrew Waltfeld waved off her proposition to forget ZAFT and be one of her advisors. He ruffled her hair in a rare display of affection, "Don't worry. You'll be fine. And I'm not returning to ZAFT anyway."

She told Miriallia she could take a job as an official photographer for the government, make a nice living and get to travel diplomatically. Miriallia simply hugged Cagalli and said she was pursuing a different kind of photography now.

War inspired the closest bonds between comrades, and despite Cagalli's best efforts, she saw the people she regarded as her family slipping away like smooth sand through her fingers. Everyone left, in search of brighter suns and sweeter seas.

But there was a firm hand on her shoulder as she watched the huge metal doors to the underground holding facility, in which lay the Archangel, and the Strike Freedom, and the Eternal, and everything else she'd ever known, slide shut a hair's breadth from her nose.

"None of those people will forget us, Cagalli." She looked up quickly and met Athrun's warm eyes. "And we'll never forget them. We've all fought and persevered to share this future with them, together."

Cagalli smiled distantly at him, registering the conviction in his voice and the strength of his grasp. She placed the key to the doors carefully on a discreet chain around her neck and let Athrun lead her out.

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><p><strong>notes:<strong> I despise endings and goodbyes with a passion, because I hate the idea of change, or of giving up friendships. I figured if anyone was as ardently loyal as me, it'd be Cagalli.

NEXT PHASE: Cagalli addresses the elephant in the room: when Athrun would be returning home.


	4. FOUR: Athrun, Cagalli

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

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><p><strong>FOUR.<strong>

"I suppose you'll be going back to the PLANTs now," Cagalli said one day at breakfast while studying her newspaper in a failed effort at nonchalance.

Athrun eyed her over the rim of his coffee cup. "Well, the conferences are over. The treaty's been signed. I don't think I'm quite that needed here anymore." He set down his drink next to the plate of scones. "I have business to finish up there."

"Such as?" Cagalli couldn't help the edge of anxiousness that crept into her voice. He was leaving again.

"Boring things," Athrun answered easily. "My father's finances. I'll have the funds transferred over to my account. It's nice to finally have access to them again, after being considered officially missing since the end of the first war. And I need to talk with someone about maintaining our properties."

Cagalli finally folded up her newspaper and swallowed hard. "Has Lacus offered you a position yet?"

There was a stumble in the flow of the conversation. "What?" Athrun looked at her strangely. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean in ZAFT, or in her government. She did to Kira, and I hear she's been filling up her military recently. She's promoted Dearka, made Kira a lieutenant general and Yzak the general. Surely she's planned a spot for you." Cagalli stopped and cleared her throat loudly, "Hasn't she mentioned anything to you?"

It was silent momentarily as Athrun stared at Cagalli and drummed his fingers on the table. Unnerved, she reached over and grabbed his hand to quiet the sound. They held that pose briefly, eyes meeting, her hand grasping his.

"Cagalli, I did talk to Lacus. But she didn't present any job opportunities." He shook his head a little, as if clearing away cobwebs inside his mind. "In fact, she and I were both well aware of the fact that I'm not returning to the PLANTs for good." He gestured widely, helplessly. "Don't you know? I'm staying here."

Cagalli's mouth fell open a little but her eyebrows drew together suspiciously. "You're not serious."

"I'm staying here," he repeated. "In Orb. With you."

In an uncontrollable burst of emotion, Cagalli climbed over the table and slapped him cleanly across the cheek. Athrun moved his face back around to watch her incredulously.

"That is for when you left me at the beginning of the second war!" Cagalli leaned over and twisted Athrun's arm behind his chair. "That is for when you left me again for the Minerva after the Battle of Dardanelles!" Finally, she jabbed his stomach forcefully with the heel of her hand and let him double over and gasp for air. "And that is for allowing me to take off your ring and walk away as if I was making the best choice!"

Cagalli glared expectantly at him from her perch on the table as he clutched his front and sat back up.

"I'm sorry I left you at the beginning of the war," he started slowly. "It was stupid of me to think I could make a difference there that I couldn't here." He moved his gaze to the window behind Cagalli. "I'm sorry I left you again after our meeting that day on the cliffs. I thought I was doing the right thing. And I'm sorry for letting you believe that if you wanted Orb you couldn't have me." But the words kept spilling out of him, and his voice began to crescendo. "I'm sorry for walking out on us. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you nearly vowed your life away to another man. I'm sorry you were alone when your country deserted you. I'm sorry you couldn't come into space with us. Most of all, I apologize for letting ourselves become what we are today."

Another pause. Something wet splashed onto the top of his hand, and he looked up to see Cagalli uncharacteristically fighting back tears. "Oh, Athrun," She sniffled and rubbed at her nose with her sleeve, appearing ready to burst with what she wanted to say. "I'm sorry too! For the wedding, and the treaty with the Earth Alliance and pushing you away. We've both made such stupid mistakes."

They sat there, unspeaking. The moment passed, and suddenly Cagalli beamed at him. "I want you to make you an admiral."

Athrun wanted to protest, but he didn't. He didn't want to be second-in-command of the entire Orb fleet, but he smiled back at her because he knew Orb's military command had been decimated and that she wanted him to be close by. Always.

"That means a lot to me, Cagalli."

They were going to be all right.

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><p><strong>notes:<strong> Athrun was a royal idiot in Destiny, for sure. His battle skills made him sufferable, but boy was Athrun/Cagalli screwed over!

NEXT PHASE: Mu and Murrue and Andy move on with their lives.


	5. FIVE: Andy, Mu, Murrue

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

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><p><strong>FIVE.<strong>

Murrue moved back into the mansion in Orb that she and Andrew Waltfeld had shared prior to the second war, this time with Mu in tow and no job commitment to Morgenroete. The place was still in disarray from the failed assault of Lacus so very long ago, but it gave the two some work to do the first week there.

"Andy, won't you please come live with us?" Murrue had pleaded with him numerous times. "You and I, we've seen each other every day for the last three and a half years. It'll be so strange without you."

"You know I've already bought a cabana two islands over." Andy answered the same way each time. "I'll be fishing. Always wanted to as a kid, but of course we don't have oceans in space."

"Don't think you can get away from us!" Mu had laughed and thrown his arm across Andy's shoulders. "You'll be coming over more often than you'd like, I'm sure."

He did. Three times a week, Andy dropped by with the day's best catch and he brewed fresh coffee and they all sat out by the sea, waves lapping at bare feet. They ate, and reminisced, and usually lapsed into a familiar silence just as the stars appeared. Trying to escape the remembrances of the war was futile, so they talked and told the same stories one hundred times and were happy.

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><p><strong>notes:<strong> I don't think a lot of people realize just how bad Andy's life is. Aisha is dead; he doesn't have a left arm; his left eye is useless. I feel bad for him, because he really is a great character (GS 19, anyone?).

NEXT PHASE: Cagalli and Lacus discuss an epithet the media has coined for them.


	6. SIX: Cagalli, Lacus

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

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><p><strong>SIX.<strong>

"Honestly, I think it's ridiculous, Lacus."

"Really? I find it quite sweet, actually."

" 'Princesses of Peace'? If I wanted a pointless nickname for us two, I would have chosen something…I don't know, more…fierce. Impressive. They make us sound like characters from some silly film."

A clear laugh tinkled across the line. "I'll keep that in mind the next time I have a press conference, Cagalli. I'll remember to tell off the media for ever daring to insult us in such a way."

"Well, good! I don't know if I'd ever walk into a meeting and take someone with the designation of 'Princess of Peace' seriously."

"I have to go, Cagalli. But make sure you think of a more suitable title for us."

"Of course! I'll talk to you soon."

Cagalli hung up and found herself in an inexplicably-irritated mood the rest of the day. Stupid magazines plastering whatever they wanted on their covers. The matter had even ruined her daily phone call with Lacus.

Halfway through lunch the next day, Cagalli slammed her fork and knife onto the table in an excited rush. She turned to the only other person in the room, a terrified maid, and shouted triumphantly, "'The Goddesses of Effective Diplomacy and Successful Governments!'"

(Lacus didn't take very well to that one. So 'Princesses of Peace' it was.)

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><p><strong>notes:<strong> I figured a bit of light-heartedness was necessary.

NEXT PHASE: Miriallia runs into Dearka on Februarius.


	7. SEVEN: Dearka, Miriallia

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

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><p><strong>SEVEN.<strong>

With no obligations anymore, Miriallia traveled and traveled without ever stopping. She took photos wherever she saw fit, and sent copies off to whomever she thought would appreciate them. A picture of a solitary flower among miles of metal wreckage at Crete to Kira. An aerial view of hundreds of landmine holes in the United States of South America to Murrue. A shot of the sun refracting rainbows of pinks and oranges across the monument at Kaguya to Cagalli. Small things which made her world spin hurriedly on.

After three months of globetrotting, punctuated by brief visits to Orb, Miriallia flew to the PLANTs for the first time. She rented out a room in a boardinghouse on Februarius One and spent a few weeks making periodic daytrips to other cities. Once, she was able to get a spectacular photo of the iconic hourglasses from her shuttle window.

Junius was breathtaking in its verdant tranquility; October was filled with wonderful museums and libraries; Quintilis hosted a huge walk-in model of the universe, meticulously detailed with revolving galaxies and bright star clusters. And yet Miriallia couldn't help but miss natural breezes and rivers and the crunch of broken gravel under her shoes. The last week of her visit, she toured the government buildings in Aprilius, and caught up with Kira over lunch in the park.

"Are you doing okay, Miriallia?" Kira studied her face closely. "Each time you come to Sunday dinner you look thinner and more worn-out than the previous."

Miriallia forced the corners of her mouth to turn upward. "Kira, don't worry about me. I like seeing the world and meeting loads of people. I learn so many new things every day. I couldn't wish for a better lifestyle for myself." She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I've got to go, but I'll see you soon, then." Kira seemed uneasy as he stood up to say goodbye.

She returned to Februarius her last day, not unhappy with her trip, but anxious nonetheless to get back to Earth. Space made her restless, in the same way that small rooms and black coffee and easy smiles upset her.

On her way to the boardinghouse from the station, she became preoccupied with the motion of the automatic doors of office buildings, and she bent down in the middle of the sidewalk to photograph the particular blur that the movement caused, a distinct red stripe of decorative paint in the center of swishing glass. As she got the perfect shot, she began to straighten but some pedestrian collided with her. Her camera went flying off her shoulder and hit the ground with a few feet away.

"Can't anyone pay attention around here?" Miriallia hissed and passed the stranger's feet an unpleasant glare as she kneeled over to examine the camera for any scratches.

"…Miriallia?"

Surprised to hear her name, she looked up and found herself meeting a pair of very familiar violet eyes.

"Dearka!"

They ended up in a street-side bistro after she picked up the camera and they exchanged stilted hellos.

"What are you up to?" Dearka leaned across the table eagerly. "I never thought I'd see you here of all places!"

"I came to visit the PLANTs. I've been staying here in Februarius for the last three weeks now."

Dearka fell back into his seat. "Wow, Miri. Funny how coincidence works." His careless smile dissipated. "I always ask about you when I go to those Sunday dinners. They tell me you come sometimes, but our appearances never line up." There was the slightest edge of reservation in his voice.

She fidgeted. "Sorry." A short silence that bordered on awkward followed, so she hurriedly broke in with the first thing she could think of to say. "Nice uniform. You look good in black."

He laughed a little. (She noted bitterly how his laugh was still as quick as ever.) "Thanks. I quite like it myself, although Yzak reminds me everyday how I haven't earned it. I've had a lot of additional work because of it, but I think I'm doing what I'm meant to be." They lapsed back into quiet.

Dearka paid for their sandwiches and drinks and insisted on walking her back to her boardinghouse. "It's the gentlemanly thing to do," he said lightly, and she fought back an overwhelming urge to cry because he'd always treated her so well.

"Where are you going after this?" Miriallia asked as they approached her destination.

"Before my dad got elected to the Supreme Council and he and my mother moved to Aprilius, we lived here. The place is empty now, but my parents have me come once a year and make sure the housekeepers have been keeping it in good shape."

Miriallia hesitated. "I remember you telling me you had a house here. I- I remember a lot of things, Dearka. About your parents, and your friends. About us."

He flashed her a forced smile. "Yes, well, it's cheering to know I'm not the only one who tries, although it often seemed I was."

The air between them froze instantly. Dearka shoved his hands in his pockets and didn't look at her; Miriallia hugged her forearms nervously. She heard him mumble under his breath, "Far too late for any of that anyway."

They reached the boardinghouse without further conversation. As Miriallia fished in her bag for her keycard, Dearka kicked at the ground.

"It was nice to catch up, Miriallia. It felt like it had been far too long, but I guess now we're set for another two years, eh?"

There was a harsh undercurrent to his tone that she didn't like. Miriallia placed her hand carefully on his elbow. "No, Dearka." She breathed in, out. "I'll call you. I…want to see you again soon."

He was dubious. "If you say so. My number's the same as before, or I'm sure you can get it from someone." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, have a safe trip back to Earth."

Miriallia stepped inside her room and nearly shut the door before she changed her mind. "Dearka!" He stopped walking and pivoted to face her. "I'm sorry." He paused for a split second and then turned around to keep walking.

Then she did close the door.

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><p><strong>notes:<strong> Hope everyone is enjoying these. Daily updates are good, although I guess they'll slow down once I hit around number twenty, which is all I've written so far. Let me know what you all think! If people aren't reading anymore, I won't bother uploading. I don't mind writing just for myself.

NEXT PHASE: Yzak decides he's had enough of girls and their irritating jewelry.


	8. EIGHT: Lacus, Yzak

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

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><p><strong>EIGHT.<strong>

Yzak always accompanied Lacus home whenever they worked late together. It was the courteous thing to do, he sputtered every time Dearka teased him about being such a mama's boy. He would argue that they only lived a minute apart, anyway, and it was his duty to ensure her safety at all times.

On that evening, there was silence in the car except for the rhythmic roll of wheels across smooth tar. Lacus was twisting and twisting a silver ring around her finger and Yzak felt his aggravation level rising, watching the offending ornament glint from the corner of his eye.

_Girls and rings_, Yzak grumbled to himself as he tried not to pay attention to how irritating Lacus's constant movement was. It escaped him why those particular accessories meant so much to women. Every time Cagalli came to the PLANTs for a visit, official or otherwise, he would notice her continually moving her ring up and down her finger absently. It was so incredibly bothersome to have to repeat himself when he was trying to tell her vital information. Moreover, whenever Athrun stepped into the room, her ring would fly up and down faster and faster and she would fall into a daze until Yzak nearly pulled out his own hair in frustration.

If the need to gift a girl a piece of jewelry ever presented itself to him, he noted that he would be sure to choose something innocuous, like discreet earrings.

But something nagged at him while the dark streets passed them by. Lacus had been distant the last few days, and he couldn't help but wonder if her home situation was all right. A few more minutes ticked by as he debated whether or not it would be too forward to just ask her, but then he realized that if preoccupations were disturbing her faculties and putting her in inadvertent danger, he had to act, as part of his new responsibilities, straight away. He shot up out of his slouch with a jolt. General Joule to the rescue!

"Lacus." He cleared his throat loudly as she turned her big eyes on him.

She smiled. "Yes, Yzak?" Her ring stopped twisting momentarily.

"Ah – um. Well, I was just. I just wanted to make sure you were all right." Inwardly, he cursed at himself. Why did he have to stumble over his words at the most crucial moments?

Her eyebrows drew together slightly. "Of course I am. What could be wrong?"

"Are…you happy?" Yzak made a point of looking at her ring. "Are you being treated well? I noticed you've been somewhat distressed recently, and it is my duty, as an advisor and as an old friend, to see to your general welfare."

Lacus blinked slowly before suddenly breaking into a fit of giggles. "Oh, Yzak!" She sobered a little when she caught sight of his horrified expression but still failed to keep the beam off her face. "It's so sweet of you to worry. But I assure you Kira cares for me very well. I'm happy, only a little worried about the radiation leak that was reported on November Six today."

Yzak stared at her blankly, dumbfounded. "Oh."

She took pity and covered for him. "But you do know that you are one of the first people I would go to if indeed anything was amiss, right?" She patted his hand. "I value your opinion very highly, Yzak."

A glow of pride filtered through him. Aha! She valued his opinion 'very highly'. That was code-speak for 'I value your opinion a lot higher than I do Athrun's.' He sent a rare smile Lacus's way and sat back into his seat triumphantly.

"Miss Lacus. Your house." The car slowed to a stop, and Lacus gathered her things.

"Thank you for your concern, Yzak. I really do appreciate it." Lacus leaned in to kiss his cheek and then stepped outside. "Goodnight."

Yzak grew flustered all at once. His neck was uncomfortably hot and there was a scalding tingle across his nose and forehead. "Oh! Goodnight, Lacus."

The door shut, and the car started to move again. Yzak attempted futilely to slap the flush out of his face and, when it refused to seep away, barked at the driver for no apparent reason.

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><p><strong>notes:<strong> I really love Yzak. It bothered me that he and Dearka were moved down to secondary characters in GSD, because the dynamics of the Creuset Team members were so fun. Either way, those short glimpses in GSD when we would see Yzak shouting his head off at Athrun on the battlefield were gold.

NEXT PHASE: Meyrin reflects – she never really loved Athrun Zala, although she had been on the very verge of.


	9. NINE: Meyrin

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

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><p><strong>NINE.<strong>

Meyrin did not love Athrun Zala, although perhaps she might have. Years later, she would reflect that she most likely would have, had she not run into Representative Athha so soon. But those two were always on a different frequency than anyone else. It made Meyrin so very hopeless every time she caught Athrun's eyes flashing down to Cagalli's left ring finger, a faraway half-smile on his face.

When Cagalli asked her to take care of him in space, she did not fool herself into thinking that she was being granted permission to pursue him. When Athrun walked her to a taxi after their meeting at the memorial at Onogoro with Shinn and Lunamaria, she did not jump to false conclusions. He was a gentleman, and only that. She never went to any of those Sunday dinners, even when her sister pushed and prodded her to. She did not wish to observe even more signs that Athrun was never hers.

Meyrin struggled at her new position in diplomatic relations after the war. Her days were constricting and painfully-dull repetitions of each other. She spiraled downwards for months before she applied for formal discharge from the military on a whim. Her resignation was granted, and just like that, she was free. Lunamaria was baffled as to why she would do such a thing. She simply told her that her path was elsewhere.

Day one, she walked out of her job and into her new life.

Day twenty-three, she put castles in the sky in her past and started a sincere effort to move on.

Month eight, she no longer jumped when someone with blue hair and a strong jaw stepped into the room.

Year one and seven months, she ran into Cagalli while on a sightseeing trip to Orb, and congratulated her genuinely on her engagement to a wonderful man. She was not bitter.

Year two and three days, she met a man who made her happy. His eyes were not green.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I like writing Meyrin, if only it's to clear the air about the debacle of the Final Plus ending. She seems sweet and a nice match for someone – just not Athrun. I quite like this one; hope you guys did too. Let me know!

NEXT PHASE: Kira and Cagalli speculate about their biological parents over ice cream on a summer day.


	10. TEN: Cagalli, Kira

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

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><p><strong>TEN.<strong>

They sat on a public bench in the middle of Parliament Avenue one summer day, eating ice cream quietly and watching a group of children play an absorbing game of hide-and-seek.

"Kira?" Cagalli unexpectedly broke the silence and Kira could tell by the crease in her brow that she had been meaning to speak up for a while. "What do you think our parents were like?" She licked a dripping trail of chocolate off the side of her cone and glanced at him eagerly.

He paused for a minute to search for words. He had no idea what to say about their biological parents. "They were scientists," he started finally. "And naturally our father must have been exceptionally intelligent, with all his _accomplishments_." His mouth twisted into a scowl at the word, but it cleared into a thoughtful furrow. "I think he was a very ambitious man who just got too caught up in the twistings of his own aspirations."

"Do you wonder, if they hadn't died in that fire, how different things would have been?" She started counting off on her sticky fingers. "I wouldn't be here, ruling Orb. We'd have grown up together."

"My genetic makeup would have been no secret. Our father would probably have enlisted me in ZAFT, not the Earth Forces. I wouldn't have been stationed on the Archangel."

Surprise ran across Cagalli's features. "You're right! Then you wouldn't have met any of the people we know today." She tapped the side of her chin contemplatively. "We might not have known Lacus."

"Athrun and I wouldn't have had to kill each other." Kira smiled wryly as he spooned up more of his sorbet. "There's a possibility we could have been on the same team."

Cagalli leaned in. "With you being a success, our father would probably have sold off his technology. There'd most likely be thousands of little ultimate coordinators running around by now!"

Kira laughed and pushed her back into her seat. "All right, enough speculation. It's safe to conclude that our lives would be entirely different today."

There was a deep sigh from Cagalli. "Do you think what he was researching was wrong? Although Orb is populated mostly by naturals, I just don't see how becoming stronger, smarter, more resilient, more capable as a species is a bad thing!"

Kira tapped a finger on his leg absentmindedly. "No, I think you're right. We've evolved for hundreds of millions of years through natural selection. What we're doing now is little more than honing in on and propagating those necessary traits ourselves using our intelligence and our projections. Coordinators may be mutants or monsters or whatever Blue Cosmos labels us as, but in the end, naturals are going to have to adapt as well if they want to keep up. To survive."

Cagalli was at a loss. "Then what's wrong with us, Kira? Why are we always fighting this same battle, over and over? I'm a natural, and I'm understand what you just said. You're a coordinator, and you understand it. Isn't there some way we can end this for good?"

Kira smiled warmly at her. "I don't know, Cagalli. I'm not a politician. But I think we all need to remind ourselves is that science without humanity is a blunder of the world. To prevent ourselves from reaching that point of violence repeatedly, we must accept our slot as humans among the massive cogs of nature, and only then move forward with our research and our advancements."

Happy with his response, Cagalli sat back. Her voice took on a calmer tone as she returned to their previous topic of discussion. "Just think, Kira. If that fire had never happened, I'd have had a mother."

With no answer to that, Kira looped his arm around his sister's shoulders and pulled her closer to him on the bench.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Could anyone recognize the 'science without humanity' line? The seven blunders of the world is a great list; I recommend everyone to look it up and read it.

NEXT PHASE: After the second war, Athrun and Cagalli's relationship falls back together in pieces.


	11. ELEVEN: Athrun, Cagalli

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>ELEVEN.<strong>

Athrun and Cagalli's relationship fell back together in pieces.

Two weeks in, they went out to eat, just the two of them at a nice restaurant. "I think this is the first time we've ever been out on a proper date and not just a late-night food run," she idly commented as he reached for his wallet. "Good work, Zala."

One month in, Athrun leaned in for a kiss and she didn't turn her head away to offer him her cheek like she always did. Pattern broken, he smiled at her and kissed her again.

Six months in they escaped Kisaka and the cabinet members to go to a secluded national park, and spent their day lying out in the sun in a remote glade. On the way back to the car, he held her hand and she didn't bother hiding it from passersby.

Eight months after the end of the war, Cagalli, in a jam mere hours before an important gala, shyly asked him which of the dresses that the official stylist sent in he liked best on her. He was bewildered and chose the drab brown one, earning him a swift punch in the side and an angry shout that she "was being serious!". She wore the red instead.

Exactly one year in, they attended the ceremonies opening the construction of a new Junius Seven. At three in the morning after the first day of celebrations, Athrun found himself bursting into her hotel room unannounced and blurting to a sleepy-eyed Cagalli that he loved her. Her face went white and she did not answer.

When Cagalli was shot, Athrun barricaded himself in her hospital room and refused to let anyone lead him out until the day she was well enough to come too. When she finally regained consciousness after thirty-six hours of intensive drug therapy, her first words, _I'm sorry. I love you too, Athrun_, were followed by an uncharacteristic overflow of tears. He forgave her.

Two years, four months, and twelve days in, Athrun proposed to Cagalli in full view of everyone present at Sunday dinner. She said yes amid another wave of abnormal crying, and was extremely relieved to find that the new ring was white gold with a green diamond. She was so very sick of silver and amethyst, of the arguments and the distance and the uncertainty that defined the way they used to be. "I'll wait for you," he spoke into her hair, and she sobbed into his shoulder.

Two years, eight months, and twenty-four days in, Cagalli woke up on a lazy Saturday to a wonderful man sleeping next to her. She lay back down and closed her eyes, and felt Athrun's arm drop heavily across her waist again.

They were happy.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I'd been looking forward to posting this for a while now. I really, really like it. Tell me what you all thought! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

NEXT PHASE: Shinn and Lunamaria take a trip to the moon to mourn their dead friend.


	12. TWELVE: Lunamaria, Shinn

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>TWELVE.<strong>

No one bothered clearing the massive wreckage on the moon for nearly a year after the Second Treaty of Junius Seven was signed. All parties were too engrossed in their rebuilding and respective recoveries to care much about the rubble.

Two weeks after the end of the war, when they were still on temporary leave from the military, Shinn and Lunamaria took a shuttle to the moon. They wore their uniforms, freshly pressed, and visited the ruins of Messiah.

"Chairman Gilbert Durandal." Shinn's voice rang clear among the silence. Their right arms went up in a firm salute.

"Commander Talia Gladys." Another salute.

There was a long pause, in which Lunamaria glanced at Shinn peripherally and noticed his arm trembling.

"Pilot Rey Za Burrel." She spoke in his place, and he managed stand straight for the full three-second duration of a proper salute before he crumpled to the ground.

"It's okay," Lunamaria kneeled down next to him and tried not to remember the faces of comrades they had both lost. Rey had been their friend since the academy; the captain was kind and capable; the chairman was intelligent and charismatic and strong. "It's okay."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I feel like this qualifies as one of the most random things I've ever written. But this image of Shinn and Lunamaria saluting these huge mountains of debris just wouldn't leave me. Thanks for putting up with my unpredictability, everyone.

NEXT PHASE: The four main members of the Le Creuset Team had known each other since childhood, and yet none of them would quite admit their relationship was anything more than amicable.


	13. THIRTEEN: Athrun, Dearka, Yzak

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>THIRTEEN.<strong>

The four main members of the Le Creuset Team had known each other for many years before they were stationed together. Childhood friends, they were, although none of them would disagree that 'friend' was a loose term in the situation.

They all met at Yzak Joule's sixth birthday party. His mother doted on him, and the event was a grand spectacle. The children were gathered on the carefully-manicured lawns behind the house to play games before dinner while the adults talked politics inside. Being both the spoiled birthday boy and a hot-headed little horror, Yzak fully expected to win every single game. When he won the scavenger hunt (it was his house, after all), he gloated spitefully. When he finished first in the one-legged race, he pushed the second place winner into the mud in a show of triumphant dominance. When he lost terribly to Athrun Zala in darts, he threw a tantrum in front of the other twenty children and kicked one of the housekeepers squarely in the shin.

Yzak was shepherded to his mother immediately who frowned deeply and told him to behave well at his own party or she'd make sure he got no cake later on. Seeing his crestfallen face, she leaned down to pat his cheek gently and told him that she had a few new people she wanted him to meet later. That didn't please him, because he found children his own age bothersome, but the prospect of missing out on his own cake encouraged him to control his temper.

Dinner started, and Yzak's mother led him to a separate table at the front of the room around which three other boys were being seated.

"Yzak, dear, let me introduce you to some friends I think you'll like." She crouched down to the height of the table and pointed each of them out. "That's Nicol Amalfi, and Dearka Elsman, and Athrun Zala. All fine young gentlemen." She stood up and pushed Yzak's chair in for him, her fingers curling warningly around his shoulder. "Play nice, boys. You'll be seeing plenty of each other from now on. And I hope you have been enjoying yourselves so far."

Athrun looked up at her appreciatively. "Oh yes, Mrs. Joule. This is a very nice party."

She beamed down at him. "Why, thank you, Athrun!" She stroked his hair briefly before heading off to her own table, mumbling to herself. "Such a nice child."

Yzak nodded shortly in greeting at Dearka and Nicol before narrowing his eyes at this last stranger who had the oddest blue hair and made nice to his mother and had better aim than him.

"Are you a girl?" he blurted out as the bisque was being served.

Athrun made a face at him. "What are you talking about? Of course not!"

"You're too pretty to be a boy," Yzak decided conclusively and began to slurp his soup obnoxiously.

"Cut it out!" Athrun agitatedly glanced over at where his parents were eating with Yzak's mother.

Of course, Yzak did the exact opposite. Throughout the entire meal he elbowed Athrun's side and blew irritatingly into his ear and called him every rude name he could think of.

"An octopus has more brains in one of its tentacles than you do in your entire body!" Yzak hollered at Athrun as he was being steered in the direction of his huge cake. "Because you're so stupid!"

"Yzak!" His mother hurried over admonishingly. "We don't call other people stupid!"

He turned big eyes at her in a fake show of apology and her resolve crumbled. "Well, just blow out your candles."

The visits continued. Once a month, Patrick Zala, Tad Elsman, Yuri Amalfi, and Ezalia Joule met at one of their respective estates to talk Supreme Council matters, sons always in tow. And so the four boys grew up knowing that their futures were inevitably tied to one other. They played together in the same sandbox, attended nearby lunar preparatory schools, wound up in adjacent rooms at the ZAFT military academy, were given identical honors upon graduation, and were finally placed on the same team on the field. And so the span of ten years did little to change things.

"How dare you? Heliopolis is in forty-six hours, and you have the gall to ask whether or not I've studied the schematics of my machine! Of course I have, you dimwit! We've all been preparing for this day for months!" Yzak stormed into the main planning room after the Athrun and the others, ignoring Dearka's signals to calm down. It had been a bad day from the start. The biggest operation of their military lives thus far was nearly here, there was some new redcoat on their team named Rusty Mackenzie and change bothered him, he had missed the easiest shot in target practice that morning, and one piece of hair by his left ear would just _not lie flat_…

"An octopus has more brains in one of its tentacles than you do in your entire body! Because you're so stupid, Zala!"

There was comfort in routine.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Yay for more Yzak! Hope you all enjoyed this. I can totally see Yzak getting all hot and bothered because his hair wasn't cooperating.

NEXT PHASE: Kira roams in search of storms and Lacus waits. They're drifting, she realizes.


	14. FOURTEEN: Kira

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FOURTEEN.<strong>

Kira liked to go stormcatching.

Moving to the PLANTs took a toll on him, because although he'd attended school on the moon and in Heliopolis previously, Earth was his home. The artificial conditions of space didn't suit him, because the sunlight was different and the soil wasn't quite as damp and the weather was always perfect. He missed dry sand and the feel of the air before rain and the cool winds over the sea.

At first, it was only one time. Kira noticed that there was a large gale forecasted for western Eurasia and was suddenly in the mood to visit Earth. When he came back, his smile was brighter and his steps sharper and his eyes had a new light in them.

After that, it happened regularly. Kira began to follow Earth's weather patterns obsessively, and at the slightest sign of a major storm he would take off, pressing a kiss to Lacus's cheek and grabbing only his wallet on the way out.

"It's all right," Lacus appeased their concerned friends. "Everyone has their escape; this is Kira's."

He traveled all across the globe chasing storms, in Berlin one month and Tokyo the next. Once he convinced a Russian weather helicopter operator to take him up for an aerial view and the familiar sensation of hovering above the layer of clouds, isolated in the atmosphere, hit him solidly with a wave of nostalgia.

Usually he would simply find himself a cliff or a secluded beach where he would stand and feel the welcoming spray of water across his face. He would walk along the edge of the ocean, observe the grey of the waters and the blinking red lights of distant buoys. Above all, he enjoyed the feeling of being completely alone, a miniscule part in the ever-moving wheels of nature and the world. Kira was not a spiritual man, but he couldn't resist the temptation of basking in the presence of something bigger than just himself.

Three years after he first started stormcatching, Kira left for a particularly large hurricane that was sweeping through the North American side of the Atlantic Federation. He packed a suitcase, which was unusual in itself, and Lacus worried the entire time he was preparing.

"You'll come back, won't you Kira?" Years ago the prospect of Kira leaving and not returning would have seemed preposterous. But he was different now: flightier, more variable. He'd been drifting slowly, wandering out to the end of the strings tying them together before springing back like a coil, as if nothing had changed while he roamed and she waited.

He smiled faintly at her, and Lacus had the wrenching suspicion that he didn't see her at all, that his gaze moved clear through her. "Of course."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Because we all know that one day, Kira is going to really _snap_. I pictured it as him leaving to chase a hurricane and just disappearing, for years or something. As always, hope you all enjoyed this! I usually really enjoy myself while writing, and I want the sentiment to transfer over to you, the readers.

NEXT PHASE: Arnold Neumann didn't ask questions, not even when the wars never truly died away, not even when the Archangel launched again and they were back to square one.


	15. FIFTEEN: Neumann

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FIFTEEN.<strong>

Arnold Neumann did not ask questions.

When the Archangel first took off from Heliopolis, he could have had a say in their plans. He was the ranking non-commissioned officer aboard, and both he and then-Ensign Badgiruel were stationed on the ship from the start. His opinion would have counted among those of Badgiruel and the lieutenants La Flaga and Ramius. But he chose to remain silent. He did not want the responsibility of dozens of crewmembers on his shoulders. He was a soldier, not a commander. Piloting the ship was one of the few things he knew how to do, so he stuck to it and said nothing.

After JOSH-A, when everything was confusion and mayhem and death, he stayed back and allowed the captain to make the decision. "We're defecting," she told him grimly in the cafeteria before she officially informed the crew. "I'm not so sure what the Alliance is trying to do now, but after Alaska, we can't risk becoming a secondary chess piece again." Her chin raised defiantly. "No more of us are going to die for a federation that does not value loyalty. Will you support me, Arnold?"

He smiled at her, because she had been worried sick of late. "Of course, captain. This ship trusts you."

After the war, he bid farewell to his comrades and blended himself into civilian life. He liked architecture, so he worked freelance at firms and kept his mind occupied as the months passed. The world continued to linger in the doldrums of unrest.

The day of Representative Athha's wedding, he received a coded message from the Terminal. _An angel is rising up to save its princess today._ And that was all he needed. Before he even registered the implications of his choice, he was packing a bag and running through the throngs that crowded the streets. He had been wandering aimlessly the past two years and now they were back to square one.

He didn't mind; square one was comfortably familiar.

Kira greeted him warmly as he stepped out of the elevator and onto the bridge. The new uniform felt right on his body, and he slipped into the familiar seat behind the wheel easily. His fingers began pressing the buttons and shifting the levers out of habit and the vessel roared to life under his hands.

Neumann turned around as the ship powered up and the captain passed him a guilty smile. "Sorry for calling you out again."

"No," he answered. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." He didn't ask what they planned to do, or if they were getting ready to sweep in and save the day and end the war again. He didn't care to know, because he was sure it wouldn't change how confident he felt as the OS beeped, and the fact that he would go to the ends of the earth with these very people that surrounded him.

"Systems all green." And the ship launched.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Remember when I said that I would choose obscure characters to write about as well as the main set? Here's the first of characters that don't get much screen time, ever. I like Neumann, so here this is. See you all back tomorrow!

NEXT PHASE: Cagalli hated herself each time she turned to a familiar face at her side and she had to force the name 'Alex' out. He was always Athrun to her.


	16. SIXTEEN: Athrun, Cagalli

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>SIXTEEN.<strong>

Cagalli hated herself in the time before the beginning of the second war, when Athrun wasn't her closest friend and confidante but the distant, collected Alex Dino. It wasn't his name, she nearly shouted; it wasn't him. He wasn't a just a man who volunteered to be her personal bodyguard, he wasn't someone who stayed in the background and never said anything even when he clearly wanted to, he wasn't anonymous.

"Alex," she would call out, and an automatic scowl would form on her face. Sometimes when she was alone she would say "Athrun" out loud over and over, if only to make sure she didn't forget the way his name felt on her tongue.

It wasn't her fault, she wanted to think, but it might very well have been. Athrun Zala couldn't be in Orb with her, and she was powerless while he went through his days in the shoes of someone who didn't even exist. For all her meetings and diplomatic visits and treaties, for all the lives lost and souls shattered during the war, her inability to truly change the world shone glaringly in the fact that she couldn't even promote acceptance and safety for all peoples within her own borders.

Two and a half years of peacetime after the end of the second war, two years after Athrun enlisted formally in the Orb military under his own name, Cagalli announced her engagement to the public via a speech outside the Parliament building. Even after the debacle with Yuna Roma Seiran, the traditional doctrines of Orb mandated that the private life of its representative remain open and not confidential. The citizens were expecting a formal confirmation of the rumors that had been spinning around for months.

"This is Athrun Zala," she met his eyes and looped her arm through his as they stood behind the podium together. "I've known him for five years now." Finally, he was accepted as himself and not the shadow of another man. At last he was Athrun and she was Cagalli and they could be together and not care who saw. "He makes me happy."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> For once, I truly have nothing to say. I think this speaks for itself. Thanks for reading!

NEXT PHASE: Dearka and Miriallia started a relationship after the war, but it wasn't so much out of genuine feelings as convenience. Day in and day out, the two of them wandered in place without ever moving.


	17. SEVENTEEN: Dearka, Miriallia

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>SEVENTEEN.<strong>

Dearka and Miriallia started a relationship after the first war, but it wasn't so much out of genuine feelings as convenience. They were close by in Orb as he waited for his trial to take place and she finally moved into a place of her own. So they fell together, because it made sense. He dropped by her apartment most evenings to take her out to eat; she came over some afternoons to simply sit in his living room and do nothing. It wasn't what they did that mattered but simply the fact that they weren't alone during those strange gray days.

He told her this a time that she was especially quiet. "We're in this together…I'm here for you." She only looked at him blankly because he didn't understand and went back to stabbing her gnocchi. The truth was that she didn't understand either. She didn't comprehend why she was so sad, why rainbows were colorless and summer nights cheerless. It took her a year and a half after the day Tolle died to realize that what was standing in the way between her and her happiness wasn't the shots – it wasn't the blood and the tears and the unfairness of a life ended too soon; it was _her_, her disease, the cancer of never letting go.

By the time she did understand, Dearka was long gone.

Once her parents asked her if that blond boy who was first on her speed dial (they didn't know his name, or even how they met – she always steered clear of specifics) treated her well. Of course, she responded. Was she happy, they ventured to ask next. She didn't meet their eyes, her reply unspoken. No.

Day in and day out, the two of them wandered in place without ever moving. Dearka turned and turned in circles around Miriallia as she spun always out of reach. Everything between them had been a rule to govern their lives together, everything a measurement of the distance that separated them, a symbiotic relationship of millimeters. He wasn't allowed to see her on Tuesdays, because that's the day a boy with brown hair and dancing blue eyes died. She didn't say the words 'desert' or 'defect' around him, even in innocuous context, because his case was still running in military tribunal and his best friend Yzak Joule had just been sentenced to death by firing squad. With time there were more and more restrictions: no sweet-scented teas because they nauseated her, no shirts that were red because he was so very sick of the color red, no public displays of affection, no airplanes, no wine, no dinners in restaurants where she might run into people she once knew, no sharp knives, no watching the news.

She had a fit the day she realized he still loaded his gun and secured his ankle holster under his pants every day, but he refused to toss it out. The distance widened.

Sometimes she felt completely alienated from him, because their entire situation was so bizarre. They had absolutely nothing in common except for the fact that they had been on the same ship for five months. Were it not for the war, she realized one day with a jolt, they would have passed each other by instantly, two faces in a shifting crowd. He was an elite pilot with a very important father in the PLANTs. She was simple and hardly a soldier, a natural at that. He liked video games and sports and she preferred quiet things like painting and photography. He took his coffee always black and she took hers with lots of cream and two sugars, and that made all the difference, it seemed.

One day he leaned in to kiss her, as he had done every night for the past months, but she turned her head away at the last minute and stared at her feet. He shifted and did not say anything.

Dearka's charges were cleared by the military the next week, and he flew back to the PLANTs without saying goodbye face-to-face. Miriallia received only a short email the morning after she went to his rented flat and found it empty, the clean counters and the open curtains a mockery of the fact that the place had been lived in once – today, or perhaps yesterday, she did not know.

_ZAFT's let me back in with only a warning and a demotion. Sorry I couldn't meet you before I moved out, but I've already been reassigned. Good luck with your new photography job, Miriallia._ There was an awkward gap that she could feel even through text. _I'll see you around, maybe._

She deleted his message without rereading it. They did not keep in touch. Three days after he left, she received an untraceable call from Murrue. "The Terminal needs your help," she said clearly. Miriallia answered without hesitation and found herself automatically pulling out her suitcase.

"I'm in."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I read a beautifully heartbreaking story for my French class the other day, and it sort of inspired me to write this. I feel like all the pairings in GS have potential to be tragic, and I like spinning things around to make them touching. Hope you all felt it! The story also got me thinking about a sad Athrun/Cagalli to write. There's a lot of them; about how they couldn't make it work or something. Hmmm. We'll see.

NEXT PHASE: After years of not knowing, Murrue decides to find out about the last moments of an old comrade – of her friend, Natarle Badgiruel.


	18. EIGHTEEN: Murrue, Natarle

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>EIGHTEEN.<strong>

Before Mu filed for official discharge from the Earth Forces, Murrue took advantage of his status as a colonel and visited the classified military library in Washington DC. Her only goal was to locate where they kept the flight data recordings of the ships that had been sunk during the wars, quickly watch the one she was interested in, and slip carefully out.

When Murrue walked into the building, there was purpose in her step. Not knowing what had happened in those last moments of Natarle's life – what provoked her to fire the Lohengrin when she'd been hesitant to even shoot at them before, why she'd commanded her soldiers to abandon ship – had gnawed at her for the last three years. The opportunity to finally understand the death of her comrade presented itself, so she took it.

When Murrue walked out of the building, she wished she hadn't been so eager to watch the black box recording of the Dominion and its sinking. A hand clenched itself around her insides excruciatingly and as she rode a bus back to the airport she had the distinct urge to throw up out the window. Guilt, she identified, was what was tearing at her so painfully. Natarle had refused to destroy the Archangel because she had no longer believed in what the Earth Alliance was fighting for. For the first time in her life, she had refused to follow through on a direct order from a superior. It turned out that she hadn't wished ill on her former crewmembers for a second.

As soon as Murrue walked through the open door of home, Mu was at her side. He'd let her make the journey alone, because she'd insisted, but he had nonetheless worried the entire time. Murrue took one look at his questioning face and burst into tears.

"Natarle was never our enemy!" She clutched at Mu's shirt tightly as the words spilled out. "She let herself die because she didn't want us to." The sobs came faster. "Oh, Mu, these past years I've been hating her because I thought it was her fault you disappeared, and it wasn't at all. She was always our friend!"

"You're not to blame for what you did," Mu rubbed her back in a smooth motion. "Shh."

And Murrue was left gasping for breath because she suddenly realized that she had never understood Natarle Badgiruel at all.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> This one was actually really difficult for me to write. The first draft was really action-based; I wrote out the scene where Murrue watched the tape. But it didn't make me happy. So I cut the thousand words, started over, and ended up with this, which I like a lot better. Let me know what you guys think!

NEXT PHASE: Lunamaria and Meyrin discuss the unavailability of the new member aboard the Minerva, Commander Zala.


	19. NINETEEN: Lunamaria, Meyrin

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>NINETEEN.<strong>

Lunamaria returned to the Minerva mentally drained. Trailing Athrun and listening in on his conversation with his friends had done nothing but confuse her. All the talk of a fake Lacus and the Chairman's intentions was mystifying and misleading. Chairman Durandal was doing the right thing, she thought angrily, and Athrun would be foolish to fall for the words of Orb again.

Lunamaria stepped into the showers and found her sister there as well. "Ah! You're back." Meyrin dropped her hair dryer and gave her a quick hug. "The ship's been so quiet. You've been out, and the other pilots went somewhere too." She tilted her head quizzically. "Where exactly did you go?"

"Special ops," Lunamaria answered briefly because her head was still spinning with everything she'd heard. There was quiet as she started peeling off her clothes and Meyrin turned back to the mirror.

"I'm sure you heard about what happened to Rey while he and Shinn were on that mission. So strange." At Lunamaria's uncharacteristic silence, Meyrin prattled on in an effort to fill the tense silence. "And Commander Zala was gone as well." Lunamaria stiffened as she fumbled with the tap, but Meyrin continued. "I've been wondering about him recently. He seems distracted, doesn't he?"

"I wouldn't know," Lunamaria didn't meet Meyrin's eyes and turned on the water. "Perhaps the constant battles are getting to him. Civilian life must have dulled him."

Meyrin paused. She was observant, and her sister's sudden cool tone toward the man she used to never stop talking about did not go unnoticed. "Are you all right?"

Lunamaria dropped her hands from her soapy hair abruptly. "Athrun Zala is a lost cause, Meyrin!"

Meyrin sat down on the bench facing the showers. "You've had a huge crush on him ever since we figured out who he was," she said carefully. "Do you not like him anymore? Is it because of Lacus Clyne?"

Lunamaria choked a little. "No!" A few minutes passed and she turned off the shower and took a seat on the bench next to her sister. "It's not his fiancée that's the problem." She remembered how he was always pushing her off him and never really talking to her. "He doesn't even like her that much," she mumbled.

"Then who?" Meyrin leaned forward, perhaps a smidgen too eagerly.

Lunamaria shook her head, trying to get rid of what she'd learned when spying. She should have realized before, she noted bitterly. The way he was never more than a step behind Representative Athha when they were on the Minerva, how bothered he'd been about the wedding in Orb, why he'd never returned to the PLANTs after the first war, that ring the Representative would not stop touching while meeting Athrun on the cliffs.

"Cagalli Yula Athha," she bit out edgily, and turned to Meyrin resignedly. "He's a lost cause."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I've been in bed sick lately, but I motivated myself enough to keep up the daily updates the last two days. I'm obsessive like that, and it would have really bothered me to break the pattern, even if it was only for a little while. Hope that you all aren't feeling as miserable as I am!

NEXT PHASE: Cagalli suffers silently while dress shopping with Lacus.


	20. TWENTY: Cagalli, Lacus

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>TWENTY.<strong>

Cagalli set her tea cup back onto the saucer, very carefully so as not to make the porcelain tinkle loudly. Nevertheless, the impact brought Galliano out of his reverie. He glanced up from his notepad immediately.

"Yes, Miss Athha? Has one caught your eye?"

Cagalli grimaced and pretended to shuffle through the photos she had been sent earlier. Galliano was the stylist the council kept on hand to help with preparations for special functions. Today, he was helping her prepare her attire for the celebrations that the Eurasian Federation's president was hosting the following week, for one year of peace after the war.

"All the selections are pulled brand-new for this season. You shouldn't hesitate; any one of them would be fine."

"I don't know!" Cagalli threw her hands up exasperatedly. "To be honest, they all look the same."

A horrified gasp escaped from Galliano, but Lacus, whom Cagalli had begged to come over to help, quickly covered for her. "Oh, yes, they're all so wonderful." Lacus passed Cagalli a sympathetic glance and flipped through the photos herself very quickly. "Why don't you tell us about the pieces?"

Galliano looked relieved that at least one of the women sitting in front of him was sane. "Let's start with fabrics. How do you feel about organza?"

"No, unless it's woven in silk." Lacus answered easily.

"Chiffon?"

"As long as it's not an overlay."

Galliano set a few photos aside with each suggestion that Lacus vetoed. "Well, there's a nice fully embroidered gown with flower appliqués, in this vivid mango. Extraordinarily pretty color."

As Lacus inspected the corresponding picture closer, Cagalli made a noise from the back of her throat. "It's so…bright. I don't want to stand out." It seemed so incredibly frivolous to be sitting there, wasting three hours looking at dresses when she had a government to run. Twelve months of peace meant little when the PLANTs had elected Gilbert Durandal into power a while ago and she had yet to meet the man face-to-face. She'd read that he was part of the radical faction of the PLANTs; not a supporter of Patrick Zala, but decidedly fundamental nonetheless.

"If you have the complexion to pull it off, you shouldn't shy away," Galliano shot back, offended. "However, if that doesn't suit you, there is one this designer released only last week which I found particularly interesting." He pulled out another photo from his briefcase and laid it on the glass-topped table in front of them. "Tulle and lace, a unique lace boat neck. High-waisted grosgrain belt and the skirt gradates naturally into a slim line." He jabbed his head in Cagalli's direction. "And it's dusty rose, a far cry from attention-grabbing."

Lacus studied the snapshot of the dress approvingly. "The criss-cross bust is very well done. And it's the perfect muted color to not wash her out. What do you think Cagalli?"

Cagalli met both their eyes miserably. She shouldn't be here. Lacus was the kind of person who fit in at these ridiculous parties, who didn't mind chattering and being sociable and drinking glass after tiny glass of diluted champagne. Cagalli Yula Athha didn't waste time with useless niceties and dancing like a practiced doll.

"Sure," she answered, because she was tired and felt so very much a failure at being a girl. She should know these things – lace and embroidery and skin tones. "I really like it."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I'm still sick, unfortunately. Today I bordered on deliriousness, so writing anything new is definitely a no. It's funny: when I first started posting SPTW, I always had written at least ten chapters ahead. Now, I'm working only two chapters in advance, which is a pity. I hope I can keep up.

For those of you interested, the dress Cagalli ends up approving is from Elie Saab's spring/summer 2011 collection. You can go to her website, go to the couture section, choose the season, and it's the first dress. It is truly beautiful.

NEXT PHASE: Lunamaria, Shinn, and a question that is never answered.


	21. TWENTY ONE: Lunamaria, Shinn

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>TWENTY-ONE.<strong>

"What did you find so great about Athrun Zala anyway?" Shinn stirred his drink distractedly and observed the passersby on the street outside studiously.

Lunamaria smiled at his annoyed scowl and set down her fork. "Well, he was a ZAFT ace and a war hero. He was famous and very good-looking. And he was kind. Even the fact that he was always so sad was appealing." She shrugged defensively at her companion's sulkiness. "Everyone liked him! It wasn't just me."

Shinn raised his head quickly, irritated. "I'm an ace and a hero too, you know. I may not have had a chairman for a father, but I'm plenty attractive. And everyone likes me too! People tell me I am a very valuable friend. There's nothing Zala can do that I can't."

Lunamaria drummed the armrests of her chair and laughed loudly. "Shinn, you have all of three friends. You're not the most amiable person around." At his slightly wounded expression, she leaned over and ran her fingers through his hair affectionately. "You don't need to compare yourself to Athrun. He was only a silly crush." She sat back comfortably. "Way out of my reach, anyway."

Shinn took a hold of her hand and rubbed circles onto her palm absently. "Thanks, Luna."

x

All the optimism in the world didn't dull Lunamaria's perceptiveness. She noticed, without fail, every time that Shinn looked at her without seeing her. She knew that his gaze sometimes pierced clear through her, that for brief moments he imagined her to have blond hair and mauve eyes. "Shinn," she would say softly, and he would come to with a jolt, his hands clenched tightly into fists. "Sorry," he would mumble automatically, and Lunamaria could only let the moment pass.

She wasn't stupid. She remembered the Earth Alliance pilot of the Gaia, the crazy girl that never stopped popping in on their lives. It was impossible to forget the number of times Shinn defied orders for her benefit: bringing her, an injured enemy soldier, onto the Minerva; escaping and returning her to her commander; staying out on the field after Berlin even when he was specifically told to return aboard. Stellar, he mumbled in his sleep sometimes, and a piece of her died every time he did so.

She was a replacement, she realized suddenly one day.

x

Their desks were in the same room, facing each other with the door in between them. Shinn was answering a letter from headquarters and Lunamaria was reading a briefing carefully. She began speaking abruptly, her voice abnormally echoic in the spacious room.

"Shinn, what are we?"

He didn't glance up and his response came seamlessly. "Shinn Asuka. ID 54292770. ZAFT Red. Currently captain of the mobile space defense team, and stationed aboard the Nazca-class Faraday. Lunamaria Hawke. ID 54293105. ZAFT Red. Part of the mobile space defense team, also stationed on the Faraday."

She slammed her laptop shut abruptly, and only then did Shinn look up. "That's not what I meant, and you know it!"

He paused and wet his lips slowly. "Sorry. I just didn't know what to say."

"The truth, maybe?" Lunamaria glared at the carpet. "We've been doing this for a year and a half now and I still don't know what exactly is happening between us." She fixed her eyes on him pleadingly. "Tell me if this means nothing. Tell me, and I'll stop putting so much of myself into it."

"It isn't 'nothing'!" he protested strongly, the papers slipping from his grasp with a swoosh. But he couldn't continue, his hands fumbling aimlessly along the edge of his desk.

The question hung in the space between them, the silence tense. Neither of them had an answer.

x

"Are you sure you're okay?" Shinn pressed again. Lunamaria sighed from the other end of the video call.

"Shinn, I'm fine! I'm only staying with Meyrin for a week. Maius is so pretty right now." Lunamaria twirled spirals across the skin of her leg with her finger. "I just wish we could have gotten our leave at the same time."

He leaned back into his chair. "Me too. But enjoy yourself without me. I'll see you soon." He searched for the right words. "I miss you."

Lunamaria opened her mouth to respond that she did too (so very much), but she noticed that Shinn was looking at a point behind her ear rather than directly at her. His focus was slightly off and his breathing was abnormally deep. And she knew instantly that he wasn't speaking to her at all.

"Stop living in the past, Shinn!" Her voice was wavering but loud, and Shinn snapped out of his trance. He caught a glimpse of her brimming eyes and dejected frown and then the screen went black with a harsh crackle of static.

On one end, Shinn ran his fingers through his hair angrily and punched a dent into the wall of his office. On the other, Lunamaria let her head sink into her hands and cried for a very long time.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I've wanted to write this broad Shinn/Lunamaria set of vignettes for a while now, and I really enjoyed myself doing so. There are always concerns when I post something bitter like this (i.e. chapters 7, 14, and 17 so far) that it means there will be no more of that pairing for the rest of SPTW. That's not true! It's just a change from the regular pace. Most couplings that I write are ones that I support, or at least tolerate amiably. And there'll be (fairly) happy endings for everyone by phase 50. These are just short glimpses into the lives of SEED's characters. Ups and downs are part of the package.

Thank you everyone for sticking around so far! We're nearing the halfway point shortly…hooray!

NEXT PHASE: Andrew Waltfeld wasn't called a tiger for nothing.


	22. TWENTY TWO: Andy

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>TWENTY-TWO.<strong>

Andy wasn't bitter that Murrue regained so much that she had lost in the first war and he didn't. He was not angry because Mu was alive and well and Aisha was still buried in one thousand pieces. Things worked that way: Murrue drew the long end of the stick and he did not. He was only very tired of his world of muted grays.

He kept a photo of Aisha's sea-colored eyes, her swinging hair and smile that lit up the room, with him for five years after she died. One day it flew out of his breast pocket and he didn't bother picking it up from within the waves. There was no sharp piercing emotion to punctuate the change, only a blunt ache where he might have felt something in days of brilliant blacks and whites. Wearily, he picked up his oars and headed home four hours early.

(It wasn't goodbye. He still felt mildly jarred each time he looked in the mirror to see a jagged red line splitting the left side of his face in half. He was missing an eye and a proper arm. He never forgot his other half who lost both her eyes and arms and legs and her heart.)

But he persevered. He put more of himself into recovery and rebuilding than anyone else fresh out of the wars. Each morning seemed pointless, a shadow of yesterday and the day before and the week prior to that. Legs out of bed, onto floor. Shuffle to bathroom, brush teeth, make coffee, set up boat. Catch bait. Sail. And yet he followed through with the actions that became cursory with each replication. The days may have been chained to each other, but the weeks had wings. Five months, three years, a decade, ten minutes. He was thirty-two going on prehistoric and the world spun in its same orbit but he was a tiger until the end and he never gave up.

Murrue came to visit him once, a day after he had been to her place for dinner.

"Mu's out somewhere again," she started. He always was, three days out of seven. Ghosts to chase, Murrue tried to justify, but they both knew the effort was perfunctory. "You're living with me from now on." There was no question in her voice. Her hand was firm around his. The "I'm worried for you," went unsaid.

"All right," he agreed without fight, because they were the two parts of a friendship that did not die.

Andy shut the door to his cabana for good two years after he had first moved in. The moment was not remorseful or sentimental, because he never was. The small beachfront house was nothing to him but a place where he was never happy, so he kicked his feet through the shifting sand and moved on.

Sometimes, when he brewed a particularly satiating blend of coffee or when he found a fascinating seashell fossil or when the sunlight caught Murrue's hair and she smiled at him just so, the grays of his life dissipated into vivid blacks or shocking whites. Time would freeze for a second of a second – and then hurriedly resume ticking.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I felt incredibly sorry for Andy when Aisha died. It wasn't so bad between the acts of the two wars, because he and Murrue shared the house. But afterwards, when Murrue got Mu back, I imagine he must have been really lonely. So this came up! Hooray. Hope you all enjoyed it.

NEXT PHASE: In a crowded breakfast bar, Cagalli suddenly realizes that yes indeed, she does get jealous.


	23. TWENTY THREE: Athrun, Cagalli

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>TWENTY-THREE.<strong>

"Thank you," Even Athrun's simple acknowledgement of refilled coffee sent the waitress into a fit of pleased giggles.

"You're welcome!" she squeaked, and courageously patted his hand in response before scurrying back behind the counter.

Cagalli was not amused, and clearly expressed her irritation as soon as the waitress was out of earshot. "This needs to end," she commanded, her cup rattling in her grip.

"Hmm?" Athrun looked up from his eggs. "What are you talking about?"

"Athrun!" Cagalli struggled to keep her voice down in the crowded breakfast bar. "You need to stop being so nice all the time."

He tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Cagalli, I'll stop maintaining all facades of civility in public. These people, you know…they don't deserve it!" He shook his head. "What's the matter with you?"

She fidgeted in her seat and fumbled for words. "Don't you realize the effect you have on people?" At his puzzled frown, she blurted out, "On girls!" Her hands fiddled with the tablecloth nervously. "They always get so giggly and touchy-feely and _flirty_ around you."

Athrun stared at her as if he had just been told that that in fact the world was not round. "No, I haven't noticed anything of that nature."

"Well I have!" Cagalli nearly shouted. "All those girls, in the military and on the street and in shops, Lunamaria and Meyrin Hawke, our waitress and my press secretary and the one on the train yesterday. They hang off every word of yours." She scowled scornfully and stirred her coffee with enough momentum to send droplets flying onto her napkin.

"What am I supposed to do?" Athrun was at a loss before he realized that he had stumbled upon the perfect setup to get under Cagalli's skin. "Does it bother you?" he asked slowly, and surreptitiously rubbed his foot along her bare calf under the table.

Cagalli flushed instantaneously and her hand began to twitch jerkily against the wood of the table. "Yes. No! Just a little. M-maybe."

"It's okay, Cagalli," he observed the family sitting next to them nonchalantly. "You can just admit that you're jealous."

Cagalli's face darkened instantaneously and she kicked him squarely in the shin. Athrun almost doubled over to grab at his leg in pain. "Yeah, that'll teach you, Athrun Zala." She raised her chin haughtily. "Just have the decency from now on to not lead on clueless girls in front of my face."

The waitress hurried over and placed the billfold between them, and Athrun shot Cagalli a superior look before turning to the girl and squeezing her hand.

"Thanks so much," he leaned in to make out the name on her tag, "Annette." He passed her a final knee-knocking smile and Cagalli jumped out of her chair and stormed out of the restaurant in a furious huff.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I've been getting a lot of anonymous reviews lately, so I just wanted to reach out to those of you I can't contact in return and say THANK YOU! I really appreciate everyone who leaves feedback for me, even if it's only a sentence - it truly means a lot to me. I only hope SPTW is living up to your expectations. Please stick around until the end if you can.

NEXT PHASE: One day, Lacus doesn't sing as she does every morning. She doesn't feel up to it for two days, three, four, a year. Lacus Clyne does not sing anymore.


	24. TWENTY FOUR: Lacus

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>TWENTY-FOUR.<strong>

The first morning Lacus did not sing, the silence rang out loudly in her place. Kira popped in his head from the bathroom, rubbing at his wet hair with a towel.

"Lacus?" There was no need to clarify what he meant by his concerned tone, because she always sang the same tune every day while she opened the bay windows of their bedroom, so brightly that the birds stopped to listen.

"It's okay," she passed him a smile that felt lackluster even to her and tied the curtains off to the side neatly. "I just don't feel like it today."

Kira let it pass. She had been the provisional chairwoman for six months then, and the work seemed to finally be catching up to her. She was probably only tired, he wanted to believe.

x

She wasn't. Even a week later, a month, she still did not sing. The absence was no longer gaping, but as routine as the fact she drank green tea and not coffee and did not like windy days. Lacus wondered where her voice had gone, once when she passed the year mark. In the middle of brushing her hair she stopped suddenly and realized she didn't even remember what it felt like to position her mouth just so and breathe from her diaphragm.

There was no reason as to why she no longer did what used to make her happiest. Worried friends always asked about it when they met after a period of time. She tried her best to explain that there was no perfect explanation that connected the dots. She just didn't want to sing. It was impossible, even. Lacus never told anyone, but one day she stood in front of her mirror and tried to force out the simplest melody she knew. Her voice failed her.

It was because she remembered too many faces, she thought one day. Too many names of the dead she had written in a small black book she kept buried in a drawer of scarves. Of people she didn't even know; names she had drawn painstakingly from all her acquaintances in an effort to make their sacrifices worth something. Her father was dead and a young, beautiful girl had given up her life to imitate someone she was not and Lacus could not sing.

x

"Sing for us, Lacus." Cagalli held her hand gently and ran her fingers through long pink hair in a soothing motion. "Please. Sing for your friends who love you. Sing for yourself."

Lacus raised her eyes and looked at the three people she held most dear in the world. She opened her mouth and strained with every mite of willpower left in her to produce the four-note progression she had sung to her pet bird when she was a child.

Her breath escaped with a swish and there was no pure voice that broke the tense hush.

x

Lacus thought she was dreaming sometimes, that she had gone to sleep after her fourteenth birthday and everything that had happened since hadn't happened at all. She would wake up anytime soon, pad quietly downstairs and meet her father before he left for work. "I had the most beautiful dream last night," she would tell him rapturously as he gathered his briefcase and tied his shoes. "It was a very sad dream. But it wasn't blurred at all." He would stroke her cheek tenderly and she wouldn't have the burden of a hundred names burning through her book and into her flesh. They would all be safe.

x

She loved Kira, but he was broken too, and shattered two halves don't make a whole. They add up to something more like three-fourths, which isn't a person at all but a shadow of one that dies with the fireflies and the moonflowers. No one ever asked her if she was all right, because people always assumed she must be. She was Lacus Clyne, as if that made a difference. As if those ten letters stamped her for life and she wasn't allowed to feel this sad and so weary all the time.

She did nevertheless.

x

A year into her marriage, Lacus sang again. It wasn't because she forgave herself or because it was suddenly acceptable to forget about everyone who had died. She sang because she felt it was what her child deserved. So she hummed while she cooked, composed spontaneous ditties while taking long baths, sang the four notes she had to her pet bird to her swollen stomach.

She gave birth to a beautiful baby with very large, very familiar blue eyes. She forgot about the names and the burning and the blood. She sang.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I really thought there was so much more simmering under Lacus's veneer of impenetrability. At the beginning of GS, she was carefree and entirely guileless. In less than forty episodes after her first appearance she morphed into this dedicated, resilient leader. There's no way anyone can go through that transition that quickly and come out entirely unscathed. Surely she's haunted by something? And I'll admit, I kind of really miss the "ara, ara" days of yore.

NEXT PHASE: "Don't be irreverent, Dearka. She would have died if no one had stopped the bleeding," Yzak snaps, and throws his briefcase into the corner.


	25. TWENTY FIVE: Yzak

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>TWENTY-FIVE.<strong>

The horror of the moment was how quickly it happened. One minute, Cagalli was at the podium, shuffling her papers before beginning her speech. Lacus was next to her, having just finished her address, and both Yzak and Athrun were slightly behind them as representatives of their respective militaries. The next minute, those same papers were drenched in red and everyone was screaming.

Yzak's eyes didn't dart to the crowd in the outdoor plaza as the shock set in. He had soldiers stationed at strategic points within the multitude so if the shooter had been among the people (he hadn't) that area would have been covered. Instead he pushed Lacus to the floor and leaped over in a clean movement to Cagalli, who was spread-eagled and already unconscious.

There was hardly anyone nearby in the stir. Athrun had jumped off the stage immediately to pursue the instigator and the aides were frantically taking cover while dialing medical services. So Yzak didn't bother rolling up his sleeves, and instinctively pressed his hands against Cagalli's gunshot wound, hard.

Lacus crawled over hastily. Yzak used one arm to force her back onto her stomach. "Stay down!" he hissed. "Stop making yourself such an easy target."

"Is she all right?" Lacus asked, frightened, blue eyes brimming. "What's going on, Yzak?"

Yzak swore and snatched one of Lacus's gloves from her. He folded it up quickly, set it in place on the left side of Cagalli's chest, and resumed applying pressure. "I don't know," he growled. "There's a lot of blood. I think it might have hit her subclavian. She's lucky it missed her aorta." He swiveled his head around agitatedly. "Where are the goddamn field doctors when they're needed?"

Cagalli's breathing was harsh and uneven against his arm and Lacus was sobbing; there were gunshots all around, the ambulance sirens were still in the faraway background, and it was just beginning to rain. Yzak felt suddenly like Atlas carting the world on his shoulders.

The next morning, on the front page of the national newspapers, there was a shot of Yzak on his knees crouching over Cagalli, white sleeves red to the elbow and mayhem surrounding them. _GENERAL JOULE A LIVESAVER_, the headline blared.

"You did some good work back there." Dearka told him good-humoredly as Yzak stalked into his office after a red-eye flight back to the PLANTs.

Yzak threw his briefcase into the corner, tore his collar open, and settled down into his large chair briskly. "Don't be irreverent, Dearka. She would have died if no one had stopped the bleeding."

"I know." His friend took the seat opposite him and slid over a large stack of paperwork. "You've got loads of damage control to take care of, but they're calling you a hero."

Yzak scoffed loudly and reached for his pen. "That's ridiculous." He started skimming the briefings before adding distractedly as an afterthought, "I'm anything but."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I seriously don't know what this is. File it under random and pointless and we'll call it a day.

Oh, important news! From now on, I'll be slowing the daily updates of SPTW down to every other day. There isn't a specific reason, really, except that I can't keep up the pace anymore. I hope you all will bear with me! I don't think it's too bad – we would have finished in another month, now it'll be two. I think this will give everyone more time to read and review and soak the chapters in, so perhaps it's good for us all. See you in two days!

NEXT PHASE: Cagalli explains her twin-sense to Kira.


	26. TWENTY SIX: Cagalli, Kira

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>TWENTY-SIX.<strong>

"Don't worry, I'm sure it'll work!" Cagalli rummaged through her blazer pocket hastily and fished out an old business card. She quickly ripped it in two and passed one half and a pencil to Kira.

"Just write down a color, any color. I'll write whatever I think you chose, and then we'll compare."

"What exactly is this supposed to test?" Kira hesitantly turned his back to her so she couldn't peek over his shoulder.

"It'll prove that we have a twin sense!" Cagalli seemed entirely too excited for her own good. "Watch, watch!"

"Honestly, Cagalli, I don't think any of us can read the other's mind." Kira received a sharp jab in his side for his trouble and bent over to scrawl down a color without any further comments.

"All right, give me yours. We'll compare." Cagalli stretched out her hand expectantly.

She snatched the slip of paper from him eagerly but her face fell when she read it. "What do you mean, _brown_? No one likes brown!"

Kira leaned over to see what she had written. "Orange? Cagalli, why would I ever choose orange? I can't think of any connections I have to that color."

Cagalli glanced desperately one more time at both halves of the card in her hand before throwing them up in the air angrily. "You don't have any to brown, either. Anyway, that was a fluke. Let's try again!"

The next three tries failed as well. Finally, Cagalli crumpled up all the papers and tossed them neatly into a nearby trashcan. "I guess that means colors aren't our thing." She stood up and brushed off her clothes. "Let's go, Kira. Someone will have my head if I'm late for today's cabinet meeting."

Kira thought that was the end of the matter. But three days later, he received a frantic call from Cagalli at almost midnight. He shot up straight in bed.

"What's wrong, Cagalli? Are you all right?"

"Kira!" He heard his sister's heavy breathing from the other side. "Let's try it with numbers!"

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> This is a rewrite of the same prompt. If any of you remember the old version, it was dreadful. Sorry for that! I'm not that happy with this either, but I was downright miserable while I left the old one up. Hopefully you all enjoyed this a bit better. And it's like two updates in one day, because I just put up phase 27 as well. Hooray!

NEXT PHASE: Early in their recovery period, Cagalli glances up from her papers at Athrun and asks forlornly, "Would you cry if I died?"


	27. TWENTY SEVEN: Athrun, Cagalli

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>TWENTY-SEVEN.<strong>

Cagalli signed her name carefully on the last page of a very long document and tapped the papers into a neat pile before drawing another set toward her. From the top of her vision she could make out Athrun's silhouette, leaning over his desk reading something from a large file. His posture was stiff and Cagalli absently noted how late it was at night. She wanted to say something to him, to break the silence that had enveloped the room for hours already. But the words that spilled out weren't those she had hoped for.

"Athrun, you cried when that girl died on the moon, right? Meer Campbell?"

Athrun's head shot up when Cagalli's voice first broke his concentration and then dropped a little when she finished speaking.

"…Yes."

Cagalli tapped the side of her pen against the arm of her chair quietly. Athrun's eyes were meeting hers very fixedly and she hesitated, momentarily disconcerted by the intensity. It had only been a month after the end of the war, and although they'd talked things out – sort of – they were still lingering at the beginning of the long path to recovery. Conversations weren't effortless just yet, and situations between them found ways to become awkward and stilted.

Cagalli's voice came out very soft and forlornly through the dimness of the room. "Would you cry if I died, Athrun?"

There was only a second in which Cagalli didn't regret her question. In an instant, though, a dark shadow passed over Athrun's face, and she wished she hadn't asked anything at all. Athrun's eyes turned hard and his mouth set into a firm line. If Cagalli had thought she'd seen him angry before, the presumption vanished immediately. Nothing compared with the breathing too slow to be natural, the drain of color from his face, the forcefulness of his glare, how tightly his fists were clenched together.

Athrun didn't answer. He only cleaned up his desk quickly, grabbed a pen and his file, and left wordlessly. Cagalli didn't watch him go, but when the door slammed shut she ran a hand through her hair crossly.

The next morning, a maid informed Cagalli that Athrun had left early to attend meetings with other military officials. Cagalli only narrowed her eyes because she knew for certain that he didn't have anything of the sort scheduled that day.

Athrun returned very late that night, and if he was surprised to see Cagalli waiting at the foot of the main staircase for him, he didn't show it and only brushed past her coolly.

"Athrun, stop!" Cagalli's cry sounded unnaturally sharp in the quiet of the empty foyer.

Athrun's footsteps slowed, and he grasped the base of the stair railing roughly. "What is it, Cagalli?"

"Why are you so angry? It was only a question. And I still want to know the answer."

He turned around suddenly and strode over to her in three long steps. "Don't ever ask me something so stupid again, Cagalli," he breathed and held her face in both hands before kissing her long. "I would never let you die."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I rewrote phase 26, the one about Cagalli and Kira, today and uploaded the new version. Please do go back and read it. I know the old version was quite bizarre, but this one's better I think. Yes sir. Not much else to say, hope all of you are enjoying your weeks thus far. See you Thursday!

NEXT PHASE: Murrue meets Talia Gladys's young son.


	28. TWENTY EIGHT: Murrue, Talia

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>TWENTY-EIGHT.<strong>

He lived on the PLANTs, nestled into a corner of peaceful November City with his maternal grandparents. Murrue found herself making the trip into space alone, because Mu tied his loose threads together on his own and so she did too.

The grandfather looked at her suspiciously as she stood unflinching on their doorstep. "Who are you?"

"My name is Murrue Ramius," she pronounced clearly. "I knew Talia Gladys during the war." She breathed in deeply. "I'm here to meet her son."

The man closed the large front door firmly behind him. "Ordinarily any comrade of my daughter would be well welcome in my household, but your request to see Alexander seems unusual."

"Commander Gladys and I were not comrades," Murrue clarified suddenly. "But it was one of her last wishes that I meet her son." Her gaze softened. "Alexander, was it? Please let me talk to him, just this once."

They entered the house together. Murrue was seated in the formal living room while Alexander was called. After a few minutes, a young boy walked in hesitantly.

"Hello, Alexander." The child sat down across from Murrue in an armchair. "My name is Murrue."

"It's very nice to meet you, Ms. Murrue." Alexander answered respectfully. He said no more, simply sat and waited to be spoken to.

"Alexander, I'm very sorry about your mother," Murrue started slowly. "I know it's not any comfort, but I'm sure she loved you very much."

"Did you know her?" Alexander leaned forward slightly. "Were you friends with her?"

"Yes," Murrue fixed her gaze on the pattern of the carpet. "Yes, I knew her. Your mother was strong and smart and resilient." She took Alexander by the hand. "She was one of the bravest women I ever met. You should be very proud."

The boy didn't say anything, but just studied Murrue with familiar blue-gray eyes. Murrue felt a sharp stinging behind her nose and fought to keep down unexpected tears.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save her, Alexander," she gasped. "I'm sorry."

He patted her hand uncomfortably. "It's okay. I don't think she would want you to cry and be sad."

Murrue swiped the back of her hand across her eyes and sat up. "No? You think so?"

Alexander drew himself to his tallest height. "My mother told me that the reason she couldn't stay at home with me was because she was fighting to keep me and everyone we know safe. I'm sure what would make her happiest is knowing that we are. You shouldn't cry," he added graciously, in a tone that made Murrue think of world-weary old men. "It's no use to cry anymore."

Murrue let slip a few loud sobs anyway. She didn't like to remember Talia too much because the entire situation always reminded her too painfully of possible friendships never tapped and good people who died for nothing. She and Talia, the Archangel and the Minerva, hadn't fought for different things at all. One of them had only needed a reassuring hand to lead the way.

Murrue had missed her chance to be that guide.

Alexander sat still in front of her. He was so blindingly bright and optimistic. Murrue didn't think Talia could have left any better a mark.

"I'll see you again soon." Murrue stood up hastily and stumbled to the door before the tears made a reappearance.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Good night!

NEXT PHASE: Yzak reflects about his scar.


	29. TWENTY NINE: Yzak

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>TWENTY-NINE.<strong>

"Let go of the past, Yzak." His mother had pleaded with him over what had started as an innocuous afternoon tea on his balcony. "Please, do this for me and for yourself. Go through with the surgery."

Yzak scoffed and set his teacup onto its saucer with unnecessary force. "No."

"This needs to stop," his mother's voice became steelier. "The war is done. Why can't you accept this?"

"Wars never end," Yzak answered instead, unconsciously losing focus as he caught sight of his new white uniform hanging inside his room, his medals shining brightly in the daytime sun.

The scar wasn't just a wound – a mark that divided his face in two and earned him double takes wherever he walked. It was a reminder of the vow he'd made to himself that fateful day in space when the pain was unbearable and the last thing he saw before passing out was the retreating Strike. Every time he'd caught sight of his reflection after that, he'd been filled with a burning anger and a hatred so strong it made his head pound and his heart race. Yzak Joule didn't lose to anyone. But he did.

"Please, Yzak," Dearka had sat him down a few weeks later, serious for once as they prepared to return to ZAFT. "You have to move on. The Strike is gone. Everything's over. We're all right."

Yzak fixed him with an unflinching stare. Things were never over; no one was ever all right. His voice came out as a harsh growl as he shoved back his chair violently and stood up abruptly, knocking over the vase on the table between them. "You don't understand, Dearka! It's not just a mark. This scar," he jabbed his finger forcefully into the right side of his face. "It's taught me everything I learned during the war. People die and you have to kill them. Nothing is ever as clear-cut as it seems. There isn't always a right and a wrong."

Dearka reached out and touched his friend's shaking arm. "The scar isn't an inseparable part of you. You can exist without it."

"No!" Yzak shoved off Dearka's hand and stormed toward the door. "It is, it is! It's made me strong!" He paused, fingers curled around the doorknob and breathing heavy. "It's made me who I am."

It took a year after the first war ended for Yzak to finally schedule the appointment with his surgeon.

"Anything happen to change your mind, Mr. Joule?" The doctor asked during the pre-op checkup.

Yzak pursed his lips, remembering the day his Duel was decommissioned, its body separated into one hundred pieces and scrapped for metal. He recalled seeing Athrun on television once, stationed closely behind Orb's Athha as she addressed her nation. He could still feel the texture of the carnations he had placed at the graves of Rusty and Miguel and Nicol on a forlorn winter evening. And mostly he remembered seeing the face of Freedom's pilot in that same cemetery. Lacus had been there to visit her father and Yzak hadn't hesitated to rush over to her side to make sure she was all right from months of disappearance.

But there'd been someone else with her, too, someone he realized was very familiar as soon as he came to a stop in front of the two. The violet eyes he'd seen so many times: when Lacus was being returned to Athrun after her capture, in the footage from Commander Waltfeld's house, on his screen that one time during JOSH-A, at the end of Jachin Due. Yzak skidded to a halt, the grass slippery under his shoes and one hand resting over his scar.

"Kira Yamato," the strange boy had offered, and Yzak flinched at the quiet voice. Kira smiled a soft smile at him, an unspoken apology shining in muted eyes and Yzak had suddenly realized that the Strike was destroyed, and the pilot was dead. This figure in front of him couldn't possibly have been the one he had hunted all this time.

"Nothing in particular," Yzak told the doctor, fighting to maintain a steady tone. "But the war's over for now."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Yay for Yzak! I really enjoy writing him. Maybe next time it'll be something more light-hearted. Hope you all enjoyed this! Please do let me know what you thought. I appreciate each and every one of you who spares a few minutes to write a review.

NEXT PHASE: In the midst of planning and paperwork, Lacus despairs one day and asks Kira when they can return to their quiet house on the coast.


	30. THIRTY: Kira, Lacus

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>THIRTY.<strong>

Lacus's hand stopped suddenly in the repeated motion of signing her name at the bottom of endless papers.

"Kira? What's the date today?"

Kira, who had been dozing absently in his chair, straightened quickly. "Uh, the sixth, I think," he answered sheepishly, adjusting the belt of his uniform and dutifully picking up his files again.

Lacus set down her pen and stared out the window contemplatively. "It's Miyu's birthday tomorrow."

Kira smiled at her faraway expression. "How old is she now? Five? Six?"

"Eight," Lacus replied, and suddenly felt very weary. "We should really take some time and go see her."

Kira glanced in her direction uneasily. "Tomorrow you have lunch with the prime minister of the United States of South America and the day after is the weekly Supreme Council meeting."

Lacus met his eyes sadly. "Yes, I suppose it's not enough time to go traipsing off to Reverend Malchio's orphanage on a whim." She twisted her ring carefully around her finger. "I do miss her and the other children greatly. It's been so long since we saw them last."

"Soon," Kira had walked over behind Lacus's desk and crouched down next to her chair. "We'll meet them all again soon."

"Are you sure, Kira?" In an uncharacteristic wave of despair, Lacus hid her face in her hands, her long hair falling like a curtain around her head. "When I first took this position I thought I'd be here for a year, a year and a half tops, to piece things back together. It's been double that time, and we're still reeling from the wars! How could I ever leave a country so broken?"

"Lacus, when you first told me you were stepping in as provisional chairwoman, you told me it was to maintain the peace." Kira tucked her hair gently behind her hair and turned her body to face him. "Surely you can't be doubting yourself now?" He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Three years or thirty, I'll wait with you, Lacus."

Lacus fixed him with a watery gaze. "Yes." In a motion that reminded Kira very painfully of mulish, willful sisters and self-sacrificing leaders, Lacus swiped away her tears and raised her chin determinedly. "You're right. The needs of the many come before the needs of the few."

Kira passed her a ghost of a smile. "I'm certain that someday everyone will have the peace we've worked so hard to earn." He felt the weight of Lacus's head drop solidly onto his shoulder.

"Yes, and we'll finally go back to stay with Malchio and the children, won't we, Kira?" Lacus sighed quietly. "We'll be able to drink tea by the water for as long as we like, and watch the shooting stars, and get lost by the cove on rainy days."

Kira only stroked her back soothingly. Presently, Lacus raised herself and picked up her pen once more, back into work mode.

"In any case," she told him tranquilly as she finished her signature with a flourish and he returned to his seat, "I'll be sure to call the orphanage tomorrow to at least speak with Miyu."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I realized, while I was scanning my table of contents the other day, that I hadn't written a single chapter of SPTW about Kira and Lacus. There were mentions of them scattered throughout, and a scene of them at the end of phase 14, but besides that, there was nothing. So now there's this! Lots of people don't like Lacus at all, but I think under the right glasses she's revealed as a deep character that was just never fleshed out. I wrote about her, in phase 24 I think, and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. The dynamic between her and Kira may be unrealistically flawless, but it's at least some stability in the midst of the ever-changing relationships surrounding them.

On an unrelated note, can you all believe it's already chapter thirty? Ah! I'm shocked at how quickly time is passing. Hope you all remain well and happy as we continue to move forward.

NEXT PHASE: Shinn inquires after the fate of Todaka, and is utterly horrified at what he discovers.

Oh, big news. I am now taking requests for SPTW! When I first started, I had enough ideas written down to last me till about phase 35; now, they're dwindling. I'm open to many plot points. Drop by a review and let me know what you would like to see in the future! Thank you all.


	31. THIRTY ONE: Shinn

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>THIRTY-ONE.<strong>

A woman's voice drifted over the line. "Sorry to keep you on hold, sir. These are the Martial Archives of the United Emirates of Orb. What can I do for you today?"

Shinn hurried to pick up his phone from where it was resting next to him on the desk. "Hi. I was wondering if I could…check up on the status of someone."

"Certainly." There was the sound of taps from the other end. "Whom should I search for?"

"Er," Shinn paused. "Lieutenant Hideki Todaka, but I'm sure he's been promoted since then."

"And might I ask who is speaking?" The woman continued pleasantly. "Although you've only asked for basic information, I'm afraid it's released on a need-to-know basis." At Shinn's silence, she suggested brightly, "Is this a family member of his?"

"Yes."

"And may I have your name, sir?"

Shinn ran his hand through his hair, aggravated. "All right, all right, I'm not related to him. I just really have to know where he is now." The woman said nothing. "Please! This is Shinn Asuka, captain of the mobile space defense team of ZAFT."

"I'll just enter it now," she said tightly.

"Thank you," Shinn answered resentfully and glared at a spot on the wall facing him.

"Captain Hideki Todaka of the Second Defense Fleet," she began. "Previous captain of the Aegis-class flagship Takemikazuchi." She inhaled suddenly. "Current status: KIA."

Shinn's phone fell from his hands and hit the floor with a clatter. He leaned down and picked it back up numbly. "What?"

"In CE 73," the woman offered apologetically. "At the Battle of Crete."

Shinn flashed through his memory quickly. Armory One, the Junius Seven Colony Drop, Orb, the Indian Ocean, Gulnahan, Diocuia, Lodonia, Crete, Berlin…

Crete. He remembered suddenly. That was the day Athha and the Freedom had interrupted again, when he destroyed the Abyss and Lunamaria had been severely injured. With an unexpected bout of nausea, Shinn recalled that the Earth Alliance and Orb had fought together that day, and the only opponent to them had been ZAFT – the Minerva.

"Do you have any more details?" he asked, a horrible dread creeping up his spine. There were more clicks and taps from the opposite end.

"Yes. If it matters, the Takemikazuchi was sunk by the ZGMF-X56S Impulse."

Shinn exhaled loudly, suspicions confirmed in an unforgiving punch to the stomach, and immediately hung up before throwing the phone at the opposite wall. It broke to pieces with a satisfying shatter.

He shouldn't really be feeling sorry, Shinn tried to tell himself. Orb was an enemy then, and he had only followed orders. If he hadn't, the Minerva would surely have been defeated, and none of it would have mattered anyway.

But still. A constant pricking in the back of his mind tore at him. He could have disabled the ship instead, he could have only targeted its armaments, he could have spared it entirely. He could have done something, had he only known that commanding that fleet was the one man who had saved him when everyone else had run off to save themselves.

But he hadn't known, because no one ever knows the things that are worth knowing. So Shinn rested his head between his knees and tried very hard to fight back the stinging behind his eyes.

Winning wasn't a victory march, he realized later that day as he robotically went through target practice and missed every bulls-eye by six inches. He thought he'd known before, but he never had. Winning wasn't victory at all: it was being helpless as friends died, it was pulling the trigger yourself, it was forgetting the losses and trying to remember only the small happinesses, it was losing family and friends and comrades and enemies, it was _losing_.

Perhaps it would have been better for Todaka that fateful day at Onogoro to not have reached out to the devastated boy with the wild red eyes at all. If he hadn't taken him aboard a safe ship, if he hadn't handed him a handkerchief and been so unfailingly kind, if he hadn't instilled within the boy the will to continue and leave for the PLANTs, Shinn Asuka the pilot would have never been born and he would still be alive.

Three days after he made the phone call to the Orb archives, Shinn finally lost it and cried in the middle of a meeting with the rest of his crew. Winning meant losing and he had killed Todaka with his own hands and how was he ever supposed to forgive himself after that?

The next time he attended a Sunday dinner, Shinn slipped away early and visited the national cemetery for officers killed in the war. It took him half an hour to locate the grave he was looking for in the dimness of dusk, and even as he stood in front of the marker and traced the words with his fingers he knew the effort was meaningless because there was no body buried beneath his feet.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, and hoped that the tears that fell on Todaka's name reached him wherever he was. "I'm so sorry!"

Lunamaria's arms that wrapped around him from behind were warm and comforting and Shinn stood up at last. "It's all right," she murmured softly to him.

"We'll come back, right, Luna? We won't forget?"

"Sure," she replied soothingly because she understood how much this man meant to Shinn, and they walked away through the endless lines of white grave markers together. "And never."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Golly, I hadn't expected it to be quite so long! Nonetheless, I really enjoyed writing this. There are times when I have to force myself to write certain chapters because the inspiration that first struck me with the idea was fleeting, but this was not one of those times. It was quite fun.

Hope you all are well. Leave me a review telling me what you think about the progression of SPTW so far!

NEXT PHASE: Athrun realizes one day how mellow Cagalli has become. "I liked the old Cagalli better," he tells her. She only passes him a sad smile and says nothing.


	32. THIRTY TWO: Athrun, Cagalli

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>THIRTY-TWO.<strong>

Athrun spotted a flash of bare legs from the top of his vision as they made their way to the coffee table next to him. "Are you having tea with someone today?" he spoke up.

Cagalli picked up a file from the mess on the table and flipped through it rapidly. "Nope. Why do you ask?"

"You're wearing a dress," he answered, observing the peach sundress that swung loosely around her knees as she walked. "And I know for sure you don't have any meetings."

Cagalli swatted his face lightly with her file and headed back to her office. "Don't be a goose. I wear dresses all the time." She looked over her shoulder at him before stepping out of the room. "And wake up! You've been napping for hours."

Athrun pushed himself up and swung his legs over the edge of the sofa distractedly after she left. Cagalli really had been wearing a lot of dresses recently, even just around the house. He chewed on the side of his mouth and thought carefully. On Monday there was the green, and Wednesday the yellow, and Thursday an orange one. Surely something was off.

They saw each other again at dinner, and Athrun tried to pursue the matter as carefully as he could. "So what's with all the dresses lately?"

Cagalli swallowed her food thickly and shrugged. "I don't know. I just feel like wearing something different." Her voice was strained and she busied herself with her glass of water.

Athrun set down his fork. "Cagalli, it used to be an all-day affair to get you to even glance at anything other than a pair of pants. Honestly, what's wrong?"

Her eyes darted around the room anxiously. "Nothing. Someone just suggested I – er, take a different approach to my politics." At Athrun's puzzled frown, she hurried to continue. "It's true, you know. People pay a lot more attention to what I have to say now. They take me seriously and I don't have to fight as hard to be heard. It's a good thing, Athrun."

"But you're so changed now," he protested. "I've been thinking and I can't believe I didn't notice it before. Your hair is a lot longer, and you wear dresses, and I haven't heard you raise your voice in over a month." He gestured helplessly. "I don't understand why you chose to become this puppet that you're not."

Cagalli sighed. "Yes, Athrun, but this new Cagalli gets things done. It was childish for me to think I could have managed Orb well if I'd stayed the same impulsive and willful person I was before the wars." She shrugged again, unaffectedly, as if it was entirely normal to have such serious a conversation in so offhanded a tone. "I've learned not to mind anything as long as it's for the good of our people. And times change. People change. New Cagalli is efficient and respected and capable. Pass me the water pitcher, will you?"

Athrun's next words came out louder and harsher than he'd intended, accompanied by his thunderous slam of the glass pitcher against the wood of the dinner table. "I liked the old Cagalli a lot better!"

"You were one of the few," was Cagalli's immediate response, but it was murmured quietly and Athrun had no response to the wistful shadow of a smile she offered him.

Cagalli cleared her throat and attempted to pick up the original flow of the talk. "Anyway, thank you. It means a lot to me that you care, Athrun."

With that, she placed her napkin back onto the table and pushed back her chair. "I should really be finishing that proposal about the new civic service projects." She extended her arms above her in a halfhearted attempt at a fake stretch, but they dropped suddenly and she was left staring dismally at the floor. "Sorry I've been so occupied lately." She looked up and touched Athrun's cheek affectionately. "Let's do something together the day after tomorrow. Let's skip the military briefing and go swimming in that river behind the Botanical Gardens, like we did that one time."

Athrun couldn't help but agree when he saw the brightness that had spread over her features. "Sure. I'd really like that, Cagalli."

She beamed at him and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth before hurrying back to her office. "And stop lounging around! Take a leaf from my book and get some work done, you sloth."

Athrun smiled at her until she disappeared from view, and then glared down at the remainder of his dessert resentfully. He suddenly hated dresses.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> This definitely didn't end up as I expected it to. I thought it would turn out to be a lot darker, not nearly so lighthearted – maybe something like chapter 17 about Dearka and Miriallia. I don't know. What did you all think?

On a random side note, is anyone really taken with the idea of military salutes? I know it's not something one should be excited about, but I think it's neat how whenever a ship is sunk, soldiers are respectful and salute. It happens with Athrun and Dearka with the Vesalius, and again with other people in GSD for the Takemikazuchi, and a few other times. It seems so noble, I guess, and principled. I wish there was an honor code like that for life in general.

NEXT PHASE: The war is over, but Mu is not well. So he takes to roaming the world and hunting down his old memories. He tries not to remember sending three teenagers to their deaths.


	33. THIRTY THREE: Mu

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>THIRTY-THREE.<strong>

They told Mu he was a legend. "The Hawk of Endymion," Murrue explained to him a sunny afternoon by the shore. "You shot down five GINNs, and you were the only survivor of your mobile armor corps." She laughed, and the day seemed brighter for a second. "Imagine! Even the Desert Dawn had heard of you."

Mu turned away to stare at the blinding blueness of the ocean. Five GINNs, however impressive it must have been at the time, seemed spare change compared to what he'd done since. He found it hard to believe he was anything close to a legend.

x

"I want to recover my memories," he said to Murrue suddenly, six months after the end of the war. He remembered things in flashes, in teasing glimpses of days long past. It wasn't nearly enough. "I'm going to travel. I think if I see the places I'd been to before it'll jog something."

Murrue said nothing, only looked at him worriedly. "It's not necessary, Mu," she rubbed his arm gently. "You're happy without them, right?"

"I need to know," he pressed, and squeezed her hand in return. "I need to do this, Murrue."

She sighed and did not meet his eyes. "All right."

x

They spent many evenings preparing for his first departure. Mu unrolled a large map of the world and space across his desk, and they sat and circled locations they thought meant something. Where the burnt remains of his father's manor stood, the EAF military academy, the Grimaldi Crater. By the time they finished, there were over a hundred little circles dotting the map.

"I'll be all right," Mu said extravagantly as he tied his shoes the next morning. "You know I'm only leaving for two days this first time."

Murrue did not answer and received his goodbye kiss motionlessly.

x

Even though he was only out of the house for a maximum of three days at a time, Mu took at least two trips a week and always came back more distant than when he had left.

"Did you remember?" Murrue asked the first few times. She stopped after a month. He always did, and it always made him miserable and confused.

Eventually, Murrue reconciled herself to only seeing Mu two days a week. She insisted Andy move back in, and they kept each other company through the empty hours. Time felt more and more like the years between the two wars when they had been alone in that big house. Nothing had changed after all.

x

Mu thought remembering his father would have made him happy. It didn't. Al Da Flaga was callous and zealous and overbearing. He did not love his wife. He loved his son depending on the day of the week. His manor was large but hollow, well-kept but cold, a mockery of the fact that it was hardly lived in.

Mu recalled the flames that burnt the house to the ground. He'd cried for his mother for years afterward. But when one of the maids had screamed, "Master and his wife are still inside!" he hadn't felt sorry for his father at all.

x

He visited Crete and Berlin and Heaven's Base. He remembered three teenagers who had followed him blindly, a girl with mauve eyes who leaned on him and asked for him in her sleep and trusted him completely. He remembered sending all three of them to their deaths. Crete, Berlin, Heaven's Base. Children manipulated to become cold-blooded killers. Children in the seats of four-hundred-ton warpath machines. Children who weren't allowed to remember anything from yesterday because it would compromise their efficiency on the next battlefield. Not soldiers, but equipment.

Crete, Berlin, Heaven's Base. Mu wiped at his eyes with a handkerchief and stood very still for a long time. Then he folded his map up and returned home early that day.

x

In the middle of a shuttle ride to the moon, Mu was suddenly hit with the memory of a beaming Murrue. They were on the bridge of the Archangel, and someone had just told the stupidest joke, but it was funny because they'd been in a huge battle earlier and it felt good to still be alive. Natarle was hiding a wry smile behind her hand, and Murrue was laughing openly and Mu felt an ache somewhere inside him because in the present day he hadn't seen her laugh like that for months. Each time he returned home she and Andy would be drinking coffee on the back patio or discussing whales or watching the sunset with the tired resignation of old people. His presence was hardly acknowledged in the whir of her daily life because it was almost an anomaly. He was never actually home for longer than a day.

The shuttle landed and Mu stood up wearily. Her sorrow weighed on him, but he tried not to ponder great things.

x

He wondered one day, when he noticed that he'd already been to half the locations marked on his map, if it wasn't better to stop and just return home. Those were dark instances, when he doubted whether he was going to be truly whole ever again. Then the moment would pass and he would decide to continue nevertheless. He didn't think offering a broken version of himself would be worth it to anyone.

x

Murrue stopped waiting eventually. She'd heard they said that if a person never returned after being set free, he was never hers to begin with. She didn't need him, really, when she had the warm stability of a lifelong friendship alongside her. Andy was kind and intelligent and they made each other happy, enough to fill the gaps left by loved ones who'd left them.

Murrue stopped waiting. But she never stopped hoping.

x

"This is it," Mu tied his shoes the same way he had done for the past two years of globetrotting and stood up to pick up his bag. "The last location." But Murrue had disappeared into the kitchen, and he was speaking to an empty doorway. "Guess it doesn't matter much anyway," he mumbled, and stepped outside.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I couldn't think of an ending that wasn't completely trite, and I didn't want to make it sappy because this wasn't that kind of piece, so I just didn't write an ending at all. I hope the last line brought a proper amount of closure. I figured it was about time I wrote something about Mu, because we're thirty-three chapters in and all he'd gotten so far was a few weak allusions, so I guess this fills in the gap. Hope everyone is well!

NEXT PHASE: Honestly, all he'd ever wanted was a girl.


	34. THIRTY FOUR: Lunamaria, Vino

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>THIRTY-FOUR.<strong>

Vino was walking to his room after the end of his shift when he caught a glimpse of magenta hair down the hallway. "Hey, Luna!" He jogged to catch up to her as she paused briefly. "The captain just said we get shore leave to go out to Orb. When are you leaving?"

"That's Lunamaria to you, Vino," she answered good-humoredly and stepped into the elevator. Vino doggedly followed, and she glanced at him sideways. "And I don't know. I think I'll go out with Shinn if he's in the mood."

"Yolan and Meyrin and I are just about to go tour the city! You should come with us," he pressed.

"Thanks, but I'll have to pass." The elevator stopped and Lunamaria waved at him over her shoulder as she headed in the direction of Shinn's room. "You have fun. Take care of Meyrin for me."

Vino blew out a sigh after she left and leaned against the wall dejectedly. That was the fourth time that week Lunamaria had openly ignored his advances. And he really liked her, too. Honestly, all he wanted was a girl. Was that so difficult to accomplish?

"You think now's my chance, Yolan?" Vino asked nearly a year later as they did maintenance work on the Legend.

"I wouldn't go for it, Vino," his friend advised him.

"What do you mean? I've seen her moping everywhere over Meyrin. It's perfect! I'll cheer her up and in her gratefulness she'll finally like me."

Yolan shrugged. "Someone told me Lunamaria's already seeing someone."

Vino dropped his soldering gun abruptly. "No way! Who?"

Yolan lowered his voice. "Shinn."

Their suspicions were confirmed a few weeks later, after Operation Requiem ended, when Lunamaria got out of her machine and ran past the crowd of well-wishers straight into Shinn's arms. The next day, Vino pulled a few plugs loose on the Destiny. When Shinn got in to change the OS later, the entire unit toppled over and Vino had a good laugh before getting back to work.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> For those of you who don't know, Vino is one of the technicians aboard the Minerva. He's the kid with the red streak in his hair who always hangs out in a threesome with Meyrin and Yolan, the other technician. I think one of the only times he was in a major scene was when Cagalli was aboard. After that I'm pretty sure he had one line per four episodes.

I hope we can all write this one off as lack-of-sleep-driven randomness. I believe I initially got the idea from the end of episode 44 in GSD, when Shinn and Lunamaria hug in front of all the technicians and Vino has this priceless jaw-drop moment. But this turned out so oddly! I don't know.

NEXT PHASE: In the scorching heat of Bogota, Dearka and Miriallia finally make amends.


	35. THIRTY FIVE: Dearka, Miriallia

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>THIRTY-FIVE.<strong>

In the middle of a scorching summer, Miriallia invited Dearka to come visit her in the United States of South America.

"I heard from Kira that you all are on assignment here on Earth for a while." She twisted the spiral cord of the hotel's old-style telephone around her finger. "And, well, I thought you might like to see a little bit of color outside that office of yours."

He arrived two days later, suitcase in hand and smile as quick as ever.

"Why are you wearing your uniform?" she asked as they made their way out of Bogota's empty airport.

"The only way Yzak was letting me out of Orb was if I convinced him I was going on business," he answered sheepishly. "I'm sorry to say I'll be spending a bit of time working."

"It's all right. I don't mind." Miriallia beamed up at him and Dearka thought for a second she was brighter than the midday sun that was glowing from behind her. "I have so much to show you here!"

x

The first night, she charmed a local shopkeeper into letting them onto his roof, and they watched the opening parade of the summer festival from above. The vivid hues of the dancers' costumes mixed into indistinguishable swirls of pink and blue and yellow and the orange from the fire-lamps cast a warm glow over the entire avenue.

"It's nice up here," Dearka commented as the rhythmic pound of wooden drums drifted up to their perch.

"Hmm," Miriallia agreed with a sound from her throat and focused in on the movements of the nimble feet below them with her camera.

"Why do you never come to Sunday dinner, Miriallia?"

Miriallia's finger paused above the shutter button and she stood very still for a minute. "I'm busy, Dearka. You know that. Always traveling."

He came closer and pushed her camera down from her face carefully. "You really should try. It means a lot to everyone."

She sighed, and didn't know how to tell him the reason she avoided those dinners was mostly because of him. He probably realized it anyway. "Yes."

x

The next morning Miriallia took Dearka out very early for the city's best coffee and they spent the rest of the day getting lost in the crowded streets. The plazas were filled with people mulling in groups, shopping from small stands, enjoying the celebrations as a whole. As they took a short break to sit on a bench and sip their coconuts in peace, Miriallia noticed the sheen of sweat on Dearka's forehead and the back of his neck.

"Hot, isn't it?" she remarked idly.

"Very," he replied and wiped his face with a handkerchief. "And I'm not used to it at all. On the PLANTs the temperature is always moderate and tolerable. This feels as if I'm burning alive."

The differences in their backgrounds presented themselves piercingly to Miriallia. "I see. We can go inside if you'd like."

"No," he interjected quickly. "I like it out here. It's different."

Miriallia graced him with a rare smile that brightened her features instantly and pulled at his arm hastily. "Then come on! I've got to introduce you these delicious things they call patacones here."

And yet, for all their returned comfort in each other's presence, for all the habits they began to fall back into, they lingered in a self-conscious limbo. At the end of the night, Dearka reached for an embrace and Miriallia leaned in for a kiss on the cheek and then they both stopped abruptly, his arms frozen in midair and her face dangerously close to his. Theirs was not a tension of unfamiliarity but one of over-familiarity. It was too easy to relapse into old patterns, but they were not there yet. It felt natural for Dearka's hand to grasp hers while they walked, for Miriallia to smile so dazzlingly at him but they didn't know each other like that anymore. Those behaviors were no longer fitting.

"Sorry," they both stuttered at the same time, and Miriallia hurried into her room before she could do something stupid, like cry.

x

"Why don't you come along with me?" Dearka suggested over the phone the morning of his third day. "It's only a two-hour drive to the base, and it won't take me that long to check in over there. You can, er, take photos of the jungle." A slight pleading note entered his voice. "It'll be fun!"

Miriallia didn't stop to think. She didn't want to be anywhere else at all. "Sure. I'll meet you downstairs in ten."

They drove leisurely in a loaned open-roofed military jeep, out of the city, past the small villages, into the open.

"This country is so broken, Dearka," Miriallia breathed as they passed by a damaged mobile suit the wreckage clearage teams had probably forgotten. It was in pieces on the ground, in the middle of nowhere, and seemed very out-of-place among the trees and the canopy. Miriallia snapped a photo of the ivy-covered metal and the broken fragments littering the clean green undergrowth.

"ZGMF-1017 GINN," Dearka said simply. "And its presence is deliberate. Although the Earth Alliance command structure here in the USSA was ousted at the end of the first war, it didn't mean that their supporters were as well. Panama aside, ZAFT has usually fought a losing battle in this area."

Miriallia climbed back into the jeep and they moved on. The sun beat down on them unremittingly and Miriallia mutely observed the sweat seeping through the black of Dearka's uniform.

x

The ride back to the city was even quieter than the way there.

"So you're done with your work?"

"Yeah."

"How much longer are you going to stay?"

Dearka took his eyes off the empty road briefly. "I actually only have a three-day allotment to be here," he admitted.

Miriallia inhaled sharply. "So your flight's tomorrow?"

He shrugged. "I could have my assignment extended, but I haven't seen any reason to so far."

"I'm glad you came," was all Miriallia said. Dearka did not look at her.

x

They ended up taking a detour through a tiny village on the return trip, and laid for hours under the cool shade of a large wax palm tree. By the time they finally reached the outskirts of Bogota it was dark and the masses were out celebrating the final night of the summer festival.

"Let's stay outside for a while," Miriallia said softly, and so they walked among the cheerful crowd.

Soon a large group had formed around the central bonfire in the middle of the city square, and accompanied by the same heavy drums from the parade, the people began to dance in an ever-moving circle around the flames. Miriallia was pulled in quickly by the rotating dancers and as she learned the simple steps and looped back around to Dearka, she pulled him into the ring as well.

"Laugh a little!" she shouted above the din and the vivacity was so unnatural coming from her that he did. She took his arms and led him forward, swaying to the loud beat.

"Stop," he chuckled and tried to break free of her grasp. "I can't dance."

Whatever she was going to respond with was lost in the sound of a sudden roll of thunder. Then a sheet of rain poured down without warning and everyone was scattering for shelter. The two of them ran under the awning of a bakery and watched the multitude of celebrators dissipate.

"Dearka," Miriallia spoke up unexpectedly, and he tore his gaze away from the wet streets. She looked straight at him, hair plastered to her forehead and chest rising unevenly. It was pouring rain; the heat had broken. Her voice was strong. "I- I don't want to lose you again." She stepped closer to him and rested her fingers on his shoulder lightly. "Dearka, stay with me."

He reached for her wordlessly in a motion that felt as automatic as breathing and they kissed for a very long time under the red-and-white cloth awning of a closed bakery. The storm continued around them.

When they separated, Dearka held Miriallia's face close to his and pushed her soaked bangs away lightly. Her eyes were bright and his hands were warm and they were finally all right. "Yes."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Whew, it's late. I wouldn't have been happy with myself if I didn't post this on the day it was promised so I'm glad I stayed up for it.

Let me know what you all have been thinking about the last few chapters. I could certainly always use feedback and support. Have a nice day!

NEXT PHASE: At a loss for what to buy Cagalli as a present, Athrun turns to one of the last women he ever thought he would for advice.


	36. THIRTY SIX: Athrun, Lunamaria

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>THIRTY-SIX.<strong>

Athrun stared at his phone. He wiped his hands on the front of his pants, and drummed the edge of his desk nervously, and stood up and paced around the room, and finally ran his hands through his hair angrily. He didn't even know why he was so rattled. In a swift movement that allowed him no time to reconsider, he snatched up his phone and punched in the number he had written carefully on a small slip of paper.

"Lunamaria," came a cheerful voice from the other end after two rings.

"Uh…" Athrun opened his mouth but found that he had nothing to say.

"Hello?" Lunamaria asked confusedly. "Who is this?"

"Athrun," he finally managed.

"Oh," she sounded relieved. "Oh, it's just you, Athrun. Is something wrong?"

"No," he answered, but even as he said it he tugged his collar uneasily. "I'm fine, Lunamaria. I just wanted some, ah, advice."

"All right," she replied apprehensively. "What can I help you with?"

"Well, it's Cagalli."

She cut off the rest of his sentence with an instantaneous burst of laughter. "I can't believe it!" she continued to giggle. "Admiral Zala, did you call me for relationship advice?"

He clenched his fists defensively and tried to keep from sounding as embarrassed as he felt. "It's not that bizarre of a concept. And, I don't know, I thought you'd be the most familiar with the subject."

Lunamaria settled down. "Right, right. Okay. What's up?"

"It turns out I – I accidentally forgot Cagalli's birthday yesterday. Almost!" he rushed to clarify as he heard her titter disapprovingly. "I remembered suddenly during dinner but she was really miffed anyway. And I don't exactly know what to get her to make up for it."

Lunamaria hummed contemplatively. "First off, Athrun, I feel obligated to reprimand you on Cagalli's behalf. What you did was entirely unacceptable. Honestly? You two have been engaged for three years already. That was intolerable on so many levels." Despite the seriousness of her words, there was a teasing lilt to her voice.

Athrun relaxed and found himself smiling. He had always genuinely liked Lunamaria, even years ago when she told him off about pink-haired fiancées and tried to make a move on him. "I don't suppose an apology to you would suffice in this case?"

She laughed a little. "Not at all. You'll have to do something big for Cagalli. What do you usually get her for her birthday?"

Athrun studied his hands. "Her seventeenth birthday I bought her a handheld video game. I think everyone made fun of me when they found out, but she really liked it. And it was mostly little things that gave each other. Once I made her a coupon for one cabinet meeting that I would bail her out of free of charge. We actually had a fun time and went swimming instead."

"Don't get maudlin on me," Lunamaria said warningly.

"I got her a car for her twentieth birthday," he admitted. "Right before I gave her the engagement ring. I figured it was the closest to a mobile suit she was going to get ever again."

Lunamaria sputtered. "A car, before you were even properly engaged? Are you kidding me? For my last birthday Shinn gave me a chocolate and a handwritten card! Where can I get an Athrun Zala?"

It was Athrun's turn to chuckle. "She only got to drive it once before she was banned from being in it – it was too dangerous, they said. Zero to a hundred kilometers in two point one seconds, you know."

"Geez, you'll have to talk Shinn into buying me one." Lunamaria tapped her fingers absently against her armrest. "I honestly don't know what else you could possibly give her. Flowers?" she suggested weakly.

"She likes polyester flowers better than real ones, if that gives you any idea of her preferences."

There was a pause and then a flash of inspiration. "Get her a pet!"

"What?"

"You know, a bird or a cat or something. She's not allergic, is she?"

"No," Athrun began. "But I don't think she's the type to get attached to some animal."

"Trust me!" Lunamaria shot up from her chair and nearly shouted in her excitement. "She'll love it." She clapped in triumph. "I'm a genius, aren't I? You owe me from now until the end of time, Athrun!"

"Fine," he conceded hesitantly. "I'll buy her a dog. But if she doesn't react well, it's on you."

Lunamaria waved her hands unconcernedly. "That's not going to happen." She stopped talking to catch her breath for a second. "So, problem solved! What do you say?"

"Thanks, Lunamaria," Athrun told her, and they both knew he really meant it. And then, if only to end the conversation on a lighter note, "You probably just saved me from six months of sleeping outside."

Cagalli took very well to the small wolfhound he brought home the following day. The situation worked out nicely, until they realized a week in that it wasn't Cagalli who was allergic to pet hair but Kisaka. So the dog was handed off to the young daughter of a councilman and they never spoke of it again.

Perhaps as punishment for his slipup, Cagalli didn't buy Athrun anything at all for his birthday that October.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> This was supposed to be a lot shorter than this, but it got a little out of hand. Whoops! And it actually took me a really long time to think of what Athrun could give Cagalli as the apology gift. What would you all have chosen?

NEXT PHASE: Caridad Yamato cared for her sister's son as best as she could. But children grow up. Kira was gone.


	37. THIRTY SEVEN: Cagalli, Kira

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>THIRTY-SEVEN.<strong>

Caridad Yamato had loved her sister dearly. All throughout their childhood Via was always the brighter of the two: the sharper, the prettier, the more admired. But Caridad hadn't minded. She'd kept an eye out as her sister played around and they grew up and both of them had loved each other unconditionally despite their differences.

The rainy afternoon in November when Via came knocking on her door took Caridad entirely by surprise. "I need your help," she'd murmured, staring at the ground, and the broken young woman with the two children in her arms seemed light-years different from the spirited girl she had used to be.

Over strong coffee Via had explained all that had happened in the last year – Ulen's experiments and what he'd done to their twins, how Kira had been born in an artificial womb and yet Cagalli was a pure natural.

"Ulen tells me our son is the ultimate coordinator," Via scoffed. "He will be smarter and stronger and faster than even the coordinators we have today. As if that's supposed to be a good thing. As if it'll bring him happiness." Two sets of soft cries pierced the silence and she leaned over and rocked the bassinet gently.

Caridad studied her sister. The table that separated them might as well have been a sea for all the distance that had grown between them. Her sister was a prominent researcher and she was a stay-at-home wife. Via had married an extraordinarily brilliant scientist and she a generous and warm information specialist. Via ran around advancing humanity and saving lives and she experimented with the recipe for the perfect pie crust. But even if they were Via Hibiki and Caridad Yamato now and not the Amamiya daughters, they loved each other still, and Caridad walked over to Via's side and held her for a long time.

As she was preparing to leave, Via pulled a photo out of her coat pocket. It was of her with her children, one in each arm and her smiling down at both. She dug out a pen, quickly scrawled their names on the back and then tucked it carefully into the side of the bassinet. "Tell them about Ulen and I when they're older. Tell them everything I told you, and tell them how much their mother loved them."

Caridad had grasped Via's arm worriedly. "What are you talking about? This arrangement is only for a short time. You'll tell them yourself, Via. I-I'm sure of it."

Via shook her head. "I don't know. The anti-coordinator riots have been getting worse, and you never know anymore what'll happen tomorrow. I'm so grateful that you and Haruma are willing to do this, to keep them safe."

The two had stood in the doorway for another ten minutes, locked in a tight embrace of stiff arms and damp cheeks. Then Via kissed the twins and her sister, whispered goodbye, and stepped outside into the pouring rain.

Two weeks afterwards, Caridad received the news she'd been so dreading and spent a week moving around the house with swollen red eyes. A month later, Uzumi Nara Athha came to visit and take Cagalli away. Caridad cried some more as she watched him retreat from the window with a blanketed bundle and the photo in his arms. It seemed unfair for her niece and nephew to have to grow up in a world where they had to be kept apart. But Blue Cosmos was searching for a pair of twins, Haruma had told her one night. It would be for their own good to separate Kira and Cagalli. So she bid farewell to another member of her family and tried not to wonder if she would ever see her again at all.

Someday, she sighed to Kira as she bounced him on her knee and he gushed happily. Someday.

x

Nineteen years later, after the end of two wars, Kira brought his sister home. Cagalli was kind and energetic, and Caridad liked her. She and Kira seemed happy and it in turn made her content. There was hope, if people as young as them could have battled and still be able to laugh.

Kira still came to visit when he could but Caridad noticed the changes that had displaced his character from the core, with the perception that only mothers possessed. She sighed and resigned herself to the fact that he was a man now, who had fought and killed and cried enough himself. War justified such transformations. So she kissed Kira's cheeks twice each time he left, and sent him and Cagalli handmade birthday presents every year, and hoped that they never stopped smiling.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Oddly enough, I have nothing to say today, so I'll leave things be. I hope everyone is doing well!

NEXT PHASE: Once a soldier, always a soldier, as the remaining members of the Le Creuset Team discover.


	38. THIRTY EIGHT: Athrun, Dearka, Yzak

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>THIRTY-EIGHT.<strong>

Commander Le Creuset had always had his coffee black. "If you're going to drink," he'd told his pilots one day around the briefing table before a particular recon mission, "there's no point in thinning it down with milk and sugar. Drink your coffee plain, lower your reaction time, increase your mental and physical capacities, stop feeling tired." He raised his cup. "Be proper soldiers."

They'd looked into their own cups at the dark, bitter liquid. It wasn't anything like the academy's brew, with canisters of cream and sugar stationed reassuringly next to the coffee heater. "Bottoms up," Dearka had said, and then they all drank anyway.

x

Six years after the end of the second war, Athrun continued to wake up at five-thirty sharp every morning. He still had a range of strange habits that made him feel paranoid and obsessive but that he maintained all the same. When he entered a room he marked the locations of all windows and doors. If anyone around him moved suddenly, his hand instinctively went inside his uniform to his gun. He took a different route to work every week to throw off anyone who might have been trailing behind.

Athrun wanted to ask Cagalli once, when they were in a restaurant, if she'd memorized the license plate numbers of the five cars parked outside like he had; if she had already plotted the quickest route to the nearest exit; if she had realized that the best place to find a gun if she didn't have one would be off the man at the table by the counter who had the telltale clips of an inside-the-waistband holster on his belt. But he didn't say anything, because he knew she hadn't.

Part of being a trained soldier, Athrun tried to justify, but he hated himself for it. It ate away at him constantly until one sunny afternoon, following the first day of a joint military conference in the Republic of East Asia, when he went out to eat with Yzak and Dearka.

"Do you do that thing," he asked them unexpectedly as they were seated, "where you absently notice all the people in the room and map the fastest escape route outside?"

"Yes," Dearka answered instantly. "Through the back where the kitchen is. It leads into an alley behind the bank next door."

Yzak drew his brows together and leaned in slightly. "And I can tell you that the well-built man at the right corner table is left-handed, around 185 centimeters and 90 kilograms, has been watching the employee at the till, and obviously knows how to carry himself."

Athrun sat back in relief. "I thought I was going crazy."

Yzak shrugged. "That's what happens when you get good at your job, Zala."

The waitress approached them with her small yellow pad and twirled her pen. "May I get your coffee orders?"

"Black," said Dearka and Yzak at the same time.

Athrun passed them a smile and all three of them met each other's eyes for a brief second. "Black," he confirmed.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I imagine being a soldier never leaves you. Er, and that's all I have to say about that. But I do have a request for you all – ideas! I've got most of the rest of SPTW planned out, but there are about four gaps I need to fill. If any of you have some characters you would like to see elaborated on, or a loose end you want tied up, please do let me know. (Minus Athrun and Cagalli – they already get five of the next twelve chapters to themselves.) When I first started writing two months ago, I was marathoning SEED and so I had plenty of ideas myself. Now that I've finished I'm sort of at a loss. I would really, really appreciate your help.

NEXT PHASE: Martin DaCosta looks at the girl sitting across from him. This is what it sounds like when doves cry.


	39. THIRTY NINE: DaCosta, Lacus

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>THIRTY-NINE.<strong>

Martin DaCosta had seen many, many things that made even seasoned soldiers sick to their stomachs. Bones jutting out of thin skin, starving desert children. His commander a bloody mess with an empty eye socket, an arm missing from just below the shoulder, and a blasted knee – nearly-dead. The dismembered remains of Aisha, pushed into the crevices of an exploded mobile suit. He'd learned things, about naturals and shifty alliances and the futility of fighting an endless battle.

But he hadn't seen anything like this.

Across from him Lacus sat facing the window. Her hair shone brightly in the darkness as their car moved through dim streets. It was silent inside, or just about. But there was a muffled sound coming from Lacus's side, so quiet it was barely discernable.

Martin DaCosta studied her delicate form, and learned new things. The sorry state of Commander Waltfeld after his last battle in the desert was nothing compared to the girl who sat across from him, grieving her dead father. She'd been strong; so very, very strong. But it wasn't easy to grow up before one's time. It wasn't effortless to spend days in shadowy rooms trying to reach out to a people that weren't willing to listen. No one had even informed Lacus that her father had been located and killed, but she'd known anyway, by the tone of hushed conversations and the bleakness of the last few days.

"Siegel?" Martin had hissed, astounded, when he'd first received the phone call. They had been in the middle of moving locations yet again. The girl behind him had said nothing, only lowered her hood to reveal a troubled face and shaking arms.

Now she sat as straight as she always did but there was a weakness in her posture. A noticeable sniffle suddenly escaped her, and she brought a hand to her mouth to stifle it. Martin felt for her. It was the first time she'd allowed herself to dwell on the fact that she was never going to see her father ever again. He took in her quivering body, glowing hair, and pale hands, the tears that glided soundlessly down a white face. A broken princess.

This is what it sounded like when doves cried.

"My parents were killed when I was eleven as part of anti-coordinator riots in the Eurasian Federation," he started, and Lacus turned a drawn face and drained eyes on him. "It was pointless; they were naturals. But we lived in a colony of coordinators. For my safety," he added, and Lacus noted the weariness that colored his voice. "I still haven't forgotten that the last time I spoke to them, we had argued about something entirely meaningless."

Martin offered a tired smile and his handkerchief to Lacus, who was crying harder.

"Thank you," she said tremblingly as she accepted it. "And I am very sorry about your parents."

"Your father was an exceptionally courageous man," he continued. "I'd met him once, when he'd come to speak with Commander Waltfeld."

"He was courageous indeed," Lacus agreed as she wiped the tears off her face. She took a shuddering breath. "I regret that he could not see this war to the end. I believe he would have been tremendously happy."

"Undoubtedly," Martin leaned forward earnestly, and Lacus gathered the strength to smile at him.

"Thank you very much for your kindness, Martin. You have kept me well through these difficult weeks." She twisted her hands in her lap. "As for your parents, you should blame yourself for neither their untimely deaths nor your last words to them. I'm sure they cared for you dearly, and knew that you did in return."

Martin took in her sincere face and the peacefulness of her large eyes. "Yes."

Four months after the end of the war, when everything had finally settled back into a dependable rhythm, Martin received a package from Lacus through the Terminal. He opened the small box to reveal his old green handkerchief and a 'thank you' neatly printed on a slip of paper.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I'd written about some lesser-known characters before (Neumann, Vino) so today it was DaCosta. He's not that obscure, but it's all right. Originally I was going to make this chapter about the dynamic between him and Andy but I suddenly thought of the line about crying doves and I realized it had to be this way instead. I hope you all enjoyed this, and see you back in two days!

NEXT PHASE: Athrun never thought he was the jealous type, but then again maybe he was.


	40. FORTY: Athrun, Cagalli

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FORTY.<strong>

Athrun hated Yuna Roma Seiran with a passion.

He couldn't really pinpoint why, even though the prissiness and overall spineless nature of the dimwit would have been reason enough. All he knew was that the simple sight of Yuna spurred a scowl onto his face and caused him to clench his fists tightly until they were white.

"Are you all right, Alex?" Cagalli looked at him concernedly. The purple-haired moron smiled saccharinely and straightened up from where he was bending over Cagalli's desk.

Athrun blinked twice, hard, and tried to burn the sight of Yuna caressing Cagalli's hand from his memory. "Er, yes."

There was an awkward silence. "Well, is there something you have for me?" Cagalli finally asked expectantly.

Athrun shook himself out of his daze and walked over to place a manila folder in front of her. "The transcripts you wanted from yesterday's cabinet meeting."

She flipped it open eagerly. "Oh, thanks! I know you hate running errands but I really needed these."

"Yes," Yuna broke in out of nowhere. "My Cagalli is always so hardworking. You should take a break, honey. Why don't we go get some coffee?" He extended his arms in an effort to massage her shoulders. Athrun glared at the floor and tried to keep his hands from twitching.

Cagalli shrugged out of his reach. "Right. No," she countered briskly. "Really, if there's nothing else you need, Yuna, I have a lot to get done."

Yuna pouted in a way that made Athrun want to punch him squarely in the face. Was he six years old? "Don't overextend yourself, all right?" He lowered his head in a clear attempt to kiss Cagalli goodbye.

"Yuna!" She pushed him away instantly, horrified.

He raised his hands in a motion of surrender and backed away. "All right, all right." As he walked by, Yuna passed Athrun an uncharacteristically calculating glance and for a moment Athrun thought that he had only been playing dumb the whole time.

The door slammed shut after him and Cagalli loosened and put her face in her hands. "Sorry about that, Athrun." Her words were muffled. "He is such an annoying twat."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Athrun collapsed in the chair in front of her desk. "I'm well aware of his hidden agendas."

"What agendas?" Cagalli questioned curiously.

"Nothing," Athrun quickly covered.

She leaned in toward him and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "No, really. Why do you hate Yuna so much? I mean, you don't even have to have a reason beyond his irritating presence," she admitted, "But still. Why?"

Athrun sat stiffly and let his eyes wander around the room. "I know about your engagement to him and all. But as expected, I don't like it."

Cagalli bit her lip warily. "Athrun, you know that was just an arrangement between our fathers, right? The whole thing's a ceremonial figurehead, practically." She smiled a little. "It's no reason to get jealous, Mr. Zala."

Athrun's head snapped around to look at hers. "What?" he sputtered. "I'm…not, I'm not jealous!" He pronounced the last word with much effort.

"Oh?" Cagalli shrugged offhandedly. "Maybe I should let him go through with that massage next time."

"Yeah, maybe," Athrun gritted out. "I'll try not to strangle him afterwards, but no promises."

Cagalli laughed and kissed him lightly. "Thanks for coming in. You really saved a tedious day."

Athrun placed a hand behind her head and kissed her again, longer and harder. "The next time he tries to make a move on you, I _will_ break his nose."

She moved her mouth fluidly against his. "Permission granted."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Requests for an inverted version of chapter twenty-three (when it was Cagalli who was green-eyed) were overwhelming, so here's an jealous Athrun at last. I hope you all are happy with it; I had a ball writing it. I think I had originally planned for Athrun to be a lot more assertive, but that probably would have been unforgivably out-of-character, however fun it might have been to write.

NEXT PHASE: Sometimes, Kira allows himself to remember red hair and first loves, people he could not save. The first war, which went badly.


	41. FORTY ONE: Kira

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FORTY-ONE.<strong>

The first war went badly.

That was all Kira let himself think whenever he remembered his days on the front line. And the reminders were always there – in the daffodils that Reverend Malchio planted behind the house, in the metal wreckage that hid in the treetops and under the sand, in one of the orphans who tied her light brown hair in two pigtails and spoke with a slight lisp.

But he blocked them out and forced his thoughts to not wander to darker places. It was ten times harder to put himself back together than to fall apart, and so he took to watching the ocean for hours a day as a distraction. The war went badly: he had let people die, and that was all that mattered.

For the first few months after the end of the war, Kira wasn't sure if he was allowed to think about Flay. He lived with Lacus, after all, and it was blue eyes (not gray, never gray) that greeted him every morning. Lacus brought him his tea in the back garden and while they drank in meaningful silence Kira tried not to stare at the blooming daffodils. He hated yellow flowers and he hated the lipsticks arranged neatly on Lacus's dressing table and he hated the cloudless skies that mocked his confusion and his uncertainty. Everything reminded him of times he tried desperately to overlook. Kira despised himself for often dreaming about red hair instead of pink.

It was unfair, for Flay to have died while he still loved her. She had bound him to her for the rest of time by doing that, by forever being his first kiss and first love and first everything. It was impossible to truly forget her because she was with him always, in the warm summer shower and the evening breeze. Theirs had not been a love of forever, or even of accepted reciprocity, but it had been something nonetheless.

But Kira learned. When painful memories surfaced he managed to dwell on them only momentarily. And his relationship with Lacus flourished. Eventually he realized that his feelings for her were the truest he'd ever known. He was happy with that knowledge even as he suffered constantly from the burden of faceless beings he did not save. Mothers and fathers who were blown to bits, children killed in cockpits – entire families crushed to dust and blown to the wind.

If he had, long ago, had the chance to end the war before it ever started and spare millions of people the anguish that they endured everyday he would have taken it unthinkingly and done his best. It would have been all right even if that twisted the future and meant that he never met Cagalli and Lacus at all. The prospect of living in a different reality where he did not have blood caked permanently into the creases of his hands was enthralling, more so than the monotonous bleakness of what his actual life had become.

The war went badly, and Kira did not forgive himself for many years afterward.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> A reviewer recently mentioned how the majority of SPTW is always so dismal. I think the reason is that SEED itself is not a happy show. The subject matter is harsh and moments of levity are few and far in-between, in a similar way they are for this story. I don't expect there to be much cheerfulness in a war, anyway. It's the small happinesses that count, like Cagalli hating her new nickname (PHASE SIX) or Shinn feeling inferior to Athrun (PHASE TWENTY-ONE) or Vino pining fruitlessly over Lunamaria (PHASE THIRTY-FOUR).

NEXT PHASE: Athrun apologizes to Shinn. "It sounded like you were troubled and all I could think was that I had failed you after all."


	42. FORTY TWO: Athrun, Shinn

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FORTY-TWO.<strong>

Athrun studied Shinn across the table. "I hear you're been doing very well in your current position. Captain of the mobile space defense team, was it?"

"Yeah," Shinn confirmed. The years had whittled away the edginess in his tone. He sat easily in his chair, with the effortless confidence of someone who had come to terms with himself. "I've been made an ambassador to the Supreme Council, too."

Athrun remembered a boy who didn't pay attention to his commanders and never knew how to speak without starting a fight. He smiled. "Congratulations."

A passing waitress hurriedly dropped off a pot of coffee on her way to other customers. Shinn poured himself a cup and leaned back. "So is there something wrong? Your message sounded pressing."

"Not really." Athrun didn't reach for the cream and sugar. "I was in the PLANTs on business and heard you'd been called to headquarters for a bit. I just wanted to talk."

"Right." If Shinn was dubious – it wasn't as if they didn't talk on a regular basis at Sunday dinners – he didn't let on. "Nice coffee," he started, but Athrun cut in at the same time with a sudden, "I'm sorry."

The conversation skipped a beat. Athrun stared at his hands and Shinn tried to keep himself from gaping openly.

"W-what?"

"I'm sorry," Athrun repeated, louder.

"For what?" Shinn tugged at his sleeve anxiously. "I don't understand."

Athrun sighed. "I've wanted to tell you this for a long time." He gathered his thoughts. "All that time I was on the Minerva during the second war, I wanted to help you. I wanted to find a way to somehow make you see things how they actually were, to see past your misplaced anger and your unfounded need for vengeance." He ran his finger around the rim of his cup. "When I heard you speaking that night I defected, it sounded you like you were truly distressed. And I thought to myself, I had failed you after all."

"That's ridiculous," Shinn burst out after a pause, his voice tense. "It was neither your fault nor your responsibility that I was," he searched for the word, "misguided."

"But it was," Athrun met his eyes evenly. "If I'd been able to make you accept the truth back then, so many things could have been different. Better."

"Why?" Shinn asked quickly. "I'd never been anything but hostile and insubordinate to you. Why would you have ever wanted to help me?"

Athrun chewed on the inside of his mouth thoughtfully. "It troubled me that you were being made to battle in such a way. You were controlled: by the Chairman, by Rey. You weren't fighting for a cause you yourself believed in, and that sort of mindless focus doesn't get anyone anywhere." He took a long sip. "No one should have to take up arms unless their purpose in fighting is clear to them. It only breaks them to pieces."

They sat in pensive silence. Shinn toyed with his spoon and then finally said what he'd been holding back.

"I know you think that I never listened to you," he told Athrun hastily. "I did. But I just didn't want to understand. What you said that evening on the deck before Gulnahan, about me wishing I'd had power long ago, the power to save my family – it was true. I remember you told me, 'Everyone who has cried over being powerless feels that way.'"

"I've cried enough for that reason," Athrun admitted quietly.

"So have I," Shinn added, and they locked gazes in an abrupt moment of mutual comprehension. "You don't have to apologize to me," he continued. "Late as it was, I don't think I ever would have come around had it not been for what you said and did at Messiah. You saved me from making even more mistakes."

"And for that I am glad." Athrun tapped his fingers against his cup. "I don't know if I'm allowed to say this, but I really am proud of you, Shinn. You've come very far."

"Thank you," Shinn responded sincerely and then there was nothing left to be said. He straightened in his chair and started buttoning up his collar. "Well, I have to be at headquarters in ten minutes."

"Oh, you should go." Athrun stood up to salute him off.

Shinn reciprocated the action, then added something just as he was stepping away. "I used to hate how you outranked me. It made me insufferably angry every time I thought of how I had to answer to you because you were a superior officer." He shrugged and gestured at the four stripes on Athrun's white-and-blue uniform. "Even if we were still in the same military, I don't think it would bother me anymore." He smiled slightly in farewell, and with a final salute was out the door.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Here's a clipping I thought a lot of you would enjoy. It's from TV Tropes, which is one of the most addicting websites I've ever been on. Just look up their page on Gundam SEED, or any of your favorite TV shows/movies/books and enjoy an entire afternoon of not getting any work done. Anyway, here's what they have for Gundam SEED on the page for shipping wars:

"Gundam SEED would have been bad enough: Kira/Flay vs. Kira/Cagalli vs. Kira/Lacus vs. Kira/Athrun vs. Athrun/Cagalli vs. Athrun/Lacus (+ /- Yzak/Shiho vs. Dearka/Yzak vs. Dearka/Miriallia vs. Tolle/Miriallia, and Mu/Murrue vs. Andy/Murrue), but then Gundam SEED Destiny gave us Athrun's Harem, Shinn/Stellar vs. Shinn/Luna (+ /- Shinn/Rey), and Ship Sinking (and in one case, Ship Raising). Minefields aplenty for all."

I seriously laughed out loud.

Back to topic. I, for one, like Shinn. Opinions about him are very polarized but I think there is a lot to explore with his character.

NEXT PHASE: Meyrin was used to being overlooked by others. Next to Lunamaria, it was quite easy to do.


	43. FORTY THREE: Lunamaria, Meyrin

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FORTY-THREE.<strong>

Meyrin was used to being overlooked by others. Next to Lunamaria, it was quite easy to do. Lunamaria was pretty, smart, sociable, and bright. Meyrin was shy and reserved, and she thought she was unremarkable in most aspects. And that was how the dynamic between the Hawke sisters had always been. From their childhood, through their schooling on Januarius, and finally to the battlefield, Lunamaria led and Meyrin followed unquestioningly. Lunamaria was fearless and unbreakable. Meyrin was never scared as long as her sister was there.

Still, it was hard for Meyrin not to be resentful when they walked together and everyone instantly paid more attention to Lunamaria. She got more salutes because of the color of the uniform she wore, more hellos because she was continuously cheerful, more smiles because she simply drew out that quality in other people.

Meyrin glanced in the mirror and caught sight of Lunamaria hurrying around in the background, fixing their bouquets and searching for something through the mess on the dressing tables. She hadn't been surprised, so very long ago, when Lunamaria was granted permission to wear a non-regulation, short skirt in place of the regular uniform of redcoats. She always got what she wanted, in the same way she knew exactly what to say to diffuse tense situations and how to make friends with the right people. Things came easily to her.

But today was different. The attention, for once, wasn't all on Lunamaria. Meyrin twisted her hands in her lap and tried to keep from feeling nervous. For one of the first times that she could remember, her sister wasn't dominating the spotlight. Today was about her. Today, no one was going to forget about her or take her for granted.

"Not getting cold feet, are you?" Lunamaria teased, and leaned into the mirror to dab at her makeup.

Meyrin bit her lip. "No, I'm just a little anxious. I hope everything goes well."

Lunamaria wrapped her arms around her Meyrin's shoulders closely. "Don't worry, I'm sure it will. Everything's taken care of." Meyrin still looked distracted, so Lunamaria continued. "It's your special day, stop agonizing! Besides, I'm the one with the short end of the stick. I keep hoping Shinn won't accidentally start an argument at the reception with dad, like the last time he came to dinner. We probably should have had him sit at a different table than us today."

Meyrin laughed softly. "You'll just have to keep him in check then. Don't ruin this for me."

Lunamaria continued rambling. "And did I tell you about how I went outside earlier to make sure everyone was being led to their seats properly? Well, on my way back old Aunt Edith stopped me to ask if it made me angry that my younger sister was getting married before me. I nearly screamed!"

Meyrin laughed again, but it was louder and genuine. "Well, does it make you frustrated?"

"Not at all." Lunamaria sobered and squeezed Meyrin's hand affectionately. "You can't imagine how happy I am for you."

Their father knocked on the door sharply. "Meyrin, they're cuing the music soon. Lunamaria, everyone's already in place for the entrance."

Lunamaria jumped. "Oh, I didn't realize it was time already!" She handed Meyrin her flowers, and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "Smile! You look beautiful."

"Thanks," Meyrin felt a warm feeling spread through her at the compliment and embraced Lunamaria tightly in a sudden wave of emotion. Despite their differences, she looked up to her fearless, unbreakable sister still, because she was there when it counted. "So do you."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Someone told me the other day that they just realized my chapter names organized the characters alphabetically. For example, in the title for this chapter, Lunamaria's name is before Meyrin's not because she plays the larger part but because L comes before M in the alphabet. Glad to know you all have been paying attention so far, haha.

I hope you all are well! Gosh, it's incredible to think that we're on chapter 43 already. SPTW seems to be coming to a close. The last four chapters are something really special, and I can't wait for everyone to read them! Thank you so much for sticking around so far.

NEXT PHASE: It's only a word, but as soon as it's said, Cagalli thinks the whole night becomes better.


	44. FORTY FOUR: Athrun, Cagalli

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FORTY-FOUR.<strong>

Neither of them was the sentimental romantic type, but when Athrun suggested one day unexpectedly that they flake out on two days of military meetings and go on a spontaneous vacation instead, Cagalli relished the opportunity and agreed without thinking twice. She'd just made it through a rough week of the annual budget planning and the trip was more than welcome.

They stood in the middle of the airport very early in the morning, staring up at the departures board.

"Where to?" Athrun asked her, scanning the hundreds of locations.

Cagalli chewed the side of her finger contemplatively. "Athens."

"Junius Seven," Athrun cautioned. "The monuments are in terrible shape."

She smiled faintly at him. "I know. That's why."

x

Cagalli insisted at the ticket counter that they sit in economy class. "This is the first time I've ever been on a public plane, Athrun!" she wailed in front of the salesperson. "I want to have the real experience!"

"Keep your voice down," he shushed, apprehensively watching the line of curious flyers behind them. Wearing civilian clothes and a pair of sunglasses, Cagalli was unrecognizable at first glance, but he was hesitant to take any big chances. "If that's what you want," he conceded, and handed over his credit card and their passports through the window.

The problems continued. The security officers had a field day about Athrun's revolver, and even after he flashed them his military ID, they told him off about having a concealed weapon on a civilian flight. Then Cagalli had another tantrum when she discovered that none of the terminal's shops had her favorite snack. She could only be placated with the prospect of free on-flight nuts.

"Next time we are definitely taking your jet," Athrun huffed when they were properly seated on the plane. "You cause way too much trouble."

Cagalli hummed brightly to herself, blissfully disregarding of his jab. "Don't be angry, be happy! We're going on holiday! We don't have to do any work for two whole days!"

Athrun opened his mouth to tell her that, in fact, they were going to have to pay dearly for skipping their meetings, but he saw the carefree look on her face and settled for squeezing her hand warmly instead.

x

Cagalli had three full glasses of wine over the course of the flight.

"Stop nagging," she mumbled distractedly after finishing her second glass and motioning for another. "I finally get to drink and you're being so worrisome about it. I can hold my alcohol, Athrun."

"No, you can't," he laughed twenty minutes later, when she passed out onto his shoulder. He prodded her head experimentally. "You are such a lightweight."

x

Their first full day in Athens, Cagalli had a headache from the past night's cheap airplane wine, so they lounged around in the suite all morning and afternoon, eating room service and watching the sea from their balcony. In the evening they tried to find the restaurant the concierge had sworn was the one of the best in the city, but got lost and ended up eating souvlaki and tzatziki from a streetside stand.

"Are you sure this is all right?" Athrun looked at his skewer warily. "This place looks slightly unclean."

"Man up, pretty boy!" Cagalli said. "What's life without taking chances?"

"Safe," Athrun grimaced, and took a bite.

x

"Monastiraki is the most authentic shopping experience you'll have in the city," the tour guide raved. "The specialty stalls are very interesting."

Cagalli stopped briefly to study a display of bright scarves and then leaned in to whisper in Athrun's ear. "Very interesting, my foot. This is boring, and it's been hours since we had lunch."

"It's not all bad. This is a new experience for us both. Besides, you liked the Acropolis well enough."

Her smile vanished. "I really had only wanted to see how bad the damage to the Parthenon had been. I should have come years ago." She paused. "It's demolished. Just like that, thousands of years of history. And no one can do anything about it."

Athrun didn't like her pensive frown, so he jabbed her in the side and whispered back to her in an effort to cheer her up, "Let's play hooky and get as far away from this miserable tour as we can."

She brightened instantly. "Let's go swimming!"

x

By the time they got changed and made their way to the isolated beach behind the hotel, the ocean was tinted pink and orange with the colors of the sunset. After splashing in waist-deep water for a while, Athrun sat down on a towel and Cagalli got to work building a sand castle.

"Aren't you a little too old to be doing that?"

"Nope!" She dug deeper into the sand with her foot. "Making this is the most fun I've had since we got here."

Athrun accepted her answer easily and watched Cagalli lean over to pat down the far side of her castle. He couldn't complain, really, with a view like that.

There was an excited shriek from nearby, and suddenly a young girl came barreling down from the direction of the hotel. "That's such a cool sand castle!" she shouted, coming to an abrupt stop next to Cagalli.

Cagalli beamed at her. "Thanks! You want to help me finish it?" She looked around. "Where are your parents?"

"My dad is coming," the girl said unconcernedly, pointing behind her. There was a figure in the distance. "How did you get the towers so straight without a bucket?"

"Practice," replied Cagalli proudly. "Let me show you."

Athrun stood up and began walking in the direction of the approaching man. He shaded his eyes against the sun as they got closer together.

"Is that your daughter?" Athrun asked.

"Yes. Lila's not bothering you, I hope?"

"Not at all. I just wanted to be sure."

The man extended his hand. "I'm Ren."

"Athrun."

They made their way back to Cagalli and Lila. Noticing that the girl's father had arrived, Cagalli had her finish the moat they were working on, and brought her to where the men were standing.

"Hi," Cagalli smiled openly.

Athrun stepped in. "Cagalli, this is Lila's father, Ren. Ren, this is my wife Cagalli."

There was a flash across Ren's face, and he straightened into a salute. "Representative Athha." His eyes trailed over Athrun. "And Athrun…Zala. Admiral Zala."

Cagalli let Lila, who was sitting on her shoulders, down. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

Ren held Lila close to his side. "No, I don't believe so. I used to be part of the Fourth Space Fleet, but I took my formal leave two years after the second war ended. Colonel Ren Hoshi." He shook his head ruefully. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize either of you earlier by name or by sight. It's getting dark out here, if it's an excuse."

Cagalli laughed brightly. "It's all right! It's nice enough to meet someone from home in a foreign country, let alone a person with such a charming daughter." She winked at Lila, and the girl grinned back widely.

x

After Lila and her father excused themselves to return to the hotel, Cagalli turned to Athrun cheerfully. "You introduced me as your wife."

He put his arm around her as they started the long trek up the beach. "Well, you are."

She leaned into his hold. It was just a word, but it felt so right. "I think it's the first time you've ever had to introduce me to anyone. I don't know, it clicked really nicely." She lowered her voice in what she thought passed as an impression of him. "My wife Cagalli. This is my wife. Cagalli, my wife."

She smiled cheekily. "You should say it more often."

Athrun rolled his eyes. "Don't get a big head or anything."

"Too late!"

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> This is double the length of usual chapters, but I have to say I'm not that pleased with it. Whenever something doesn't turn out how I originally planned I am either super happy about it, or I get really dissatisfied. This is just…I don't even know. Bizarre. Not my customary writing style. Unforgivably out-of-character. Deadlines are deadlines, however, and I make a point to update every two days on the dot, so here's something I hope fills the gap at least halfway. It's ten minutes to midnight!

Thank you all for reading and leaving reviews! I cherish all of them. (Back to regular programming in two days.)

NEXT PHASE: Kisaka isn't that old, really. It's just chasing after disobedient princesses that's aged him before his time.


	45. FORTY FIVE: Kisaka

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FORTY-FIVE.<strong>

Kisaka was accustomed to being thought of as much older than he actually was. It wasn't anyone's fault, really, because his hair was gray and there were lines worn into the sharp planes of his face. But it wasn't until a casual conversation with a subordinate that he realized – with horror – exactly how old he was perceived as.

"You sure know how to get these recruits into shape," a major visiting from another division commented over the water cooler.

"It's not that bad. They're all good kids. They learn quickly and they're willing to try." Kisaka took a sip from his plastic glass and looked out the window of the office at the range, where the new soldiers were in sharpshooting practice. "Besides, there's not much to it when you've been doing it for a while."

"Yeah," the officer eagerly agreed. "I suppose you're gearing up to retire in a few years?"

Kisaka paused, glass halfway to his mouth. "Retire? That's ridiculous. I've hardly been here."

"Well, I know that highly-ranked commanders tend to leave early. Oh, did you transfer in from another unit really late in your career?"

Kisaka took a hard look at the young man in front of him. "How old do you think I am?"

The man fiddled with his belt, nervous to be put on the spot. "Er, forty-seven?"

Kisaka stared at him.

"Fifty-two?"

"Twenty-eight," he corrected, and crushed the plastic glass in his hand.

x

"Cagalli, did I tell you how old one of the men from the twenty-third airborne division thought I was?" Kisaka still couldn't get over his encounter with the hapless officer from yesterday.

Cagalli dragged her attention away from the papers she had in her hand and looked across the car seat at Kisaka. "No. What did he say?"

He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper and stressed each syllable. "Fifty-two."

His aghast face was so very out-of-character that Cagalli began to laugh. "It's not too ridiculous of a guess. You do behave very much like an old man."

"It's chasing after disobedient princesses that's aged me before my time."

Cagalli folded her hands in her lap, suddenly serious. "I never do thank you for what you've done, Kisaka." She smiled wanly. "You know you don't have to stay forever. Manna left after the second war ended to be with her family."

Kisaka shrugged. "I don't have any."

"Still," Cagalli pressed. "I know that military life is tiring. And you've protected me just like Father asked you to. I would support you wherever you choose to go."

"I think I'll pass for now, Cagalli," he reassured. "You don't have to worry about me."

x

Three years later, Kisaka visited his hometown of Tassil to see how the rebuilding had progressed.

"It's astounding how much has been done to the village itself," he told Cagalli over the phone while he was there. "But the people here are still very broken." And Cagalli knew instantly from his glowing voice that he when he returned to Orb he wouldn't be staying long.

x

"Protect her with your life." He paused, churning his next words. "Would you die for her?" Kisaka asked the person who stood in front of him. His ride back to the airport was there but he had matters to take care of first.

"A hundred times over," came the immediate response.

Kisaka sighed and reached down for his bags. "Make sure you do. I would tell you to keep her happy always, but I know you will."

Athrun reached out to shake Kisaka's hand. "I wish you the best of luck, Colonel."

"And to you as well." He took a long, final look at the familiar buildings surrounding them. Then Kisaka stepped into the car and was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I am so excited for the end of SPTW! I had the best time writing the closing chapters, and I think they're very enjoyable to read. I hope all of you let me know what you're thinking as we prepare for the finale.

NEXT PHASE: Last call, last touch, last dance. Kira asks Lacus to marry him.


	46. FORTY SIX: Kira, Lacus

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FORTY-SIX.<strong>

The call for the last dance was made as the string quartet slowed itself into a grand waltz. Kira pushed away his still-full drink and extended his arm to Lacus across the table. She delicately slipped her hand into his, and together they danced.

"Murrue was glowing today during the reception," Lacus said quietly. She tightened her grip on Kira's shoulder. "I'm so very happy for her and Mu."

Kira studied her carefully. Lacus always cried at weddings, whether they were of lifelong friends or near-strangers. It wasn't for the ordinary reasons – the bitterness of change, the fear of being left behind, the splendor of the pure joy of two people who loved each other greatly. She found little things, beautiful things that no one noticed, to weep about: the pride of a father, radiant bridesmaids, the orchestra tuning its instruments. Earlier in the day she caught sight of Andy alone with an entire bottle of whiskey during the first dance, so she forced back the prickling sensation behind her eyes and pulled him into the quickstep herself.

They swept through a wide turn. "So am I," Kira answered finally, observing the tears streaking down her cheeks, silvery and fleeting on a pale face.

"They've been through so much," she sniffed. "I know it was never of my concern, but I worried for them for the first few years after the last war. They were both unsure and broken and people drift apart all the time, don't they?"

"Not those who truly care for each other," he reassured, and Lacus smiled up at him tremblingly. They dodged a passing Yzak, who was so absorbed in trying to keep from stepping on his partner's feet that he couldn't lead properly.

Kira drew Lacus slightly closer. "Let's go home, Lacus."

She breathed in deeply. "Do you think it's for the best?"

"It's been six years," he continued seamlessly, even as they both knew she didn't mean their country. "Cyril Nikos has announced his candidacy for the next elections. If you run again he won't win, but he's the one we've been waiting for, isn't he?"

"Yes, he would indeed be an ideal chairman." Lacus faltered. "And I believe our presence has not been necessary to the welfare of the PLANTs for a long time now." She looked at her shoes. "But what about us, Kira?"

"We'll buy a house on the coast, in Orb," he offered hastily. "By the ocean, which you've always wanted. The children have gone off to school, but we can visit them in the orphanage whenever they're on vacation."

The waltz crescendoed to its peak, phrases long and open and soaring.

"We'll be right next to everyone here on Earth, and we can still meet everyone from the PLANTs on Sundays." Kira let Lacus rest her head on his shoulder. "It'll be just us. No council, no media, no obligations to anyone except ourselves. Me, and you." He stumbled over his words, and the end of his sentence came out sounding like a question. "You, er, my wife?"

Lacus stopped moving abruptly in the middle of the gliding pairs and drew her head away. "Kira?"

Kira continued to stammer, his usual composure slipping away in the face of a hurried proposal. "Well, ah, if it would suit you. I mean, I assumed it would, because, you know, we've been doing this for eight years." He frowned deeply, visibly upset. "I'm doing this wrong, aren't I? And I haven't a ring, because I know you've always wanted to wear your mother's diamond." His eyebrows knitted together as she met his eyes steadily. "It's fine, right? You agree?"

Lacus glanced around at their surroundings, hesitated momentarily, decided no one was paying any attention to them, and then kissed Kira on the mouth briefly. When he pulled away, he noticed that she was crying once more, and the music was fading into long, dying notes.

"Aren't you happy?" he asked, uncertain of her feelings for the first time in a long time.

"That's why," she replied, and fell into his arms.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> I realize I haven't written much about Kira and Lacus in SPTW. That's not because I dislike them as characters; I'm rather fond of Kira especially. But there isn't much to say when they behave as if they've been married for decades. They seem old, and wise, and perfect, and there isn't a lot you can do with that. That said, I like them together, even if I did wish Lacus was portrayed less as an eternal being and more as a girl. We've honestly never seen her do any wrong.

Thank you for reading! As always, feedback is highly appreciated.

NEXT PHASE: They are beautiful – their children, who laugh freely in the meadow and who truly believe that the purple streaks in the night sky are shooting stars.


	47. FORTY SEVEN: Athrun,Cagalli, Kira,Lacus

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FORTY-SEVEN.<strong>

They played in the open fields behind the house – a lively girl with fair hair and dancing green eyes; her clever brother who was an exact copy of their father; their quiet cousin with the smooth brown hair and inquisitive blue eyes. They ran down the hill and tried to catch darting orange butterflies and tumbled together into a warm heap on the bright grass, laughing with the sun in their eyes and on their faces and in their outstretched hands.

"They're beautiful," Cagalli said, and saw the peacefulness of her voice mirrored in the expressions of those around the table. It was as if the world was kneeling down and whispering to them patiently, indulgently, _this is happiness_. Light breezes and cool waters, white teacups and matching saucers painted with pink flowers, sleeping under the sun-dappled leaves of a tree in a faraway golden garden.

"Our children," Lacus breathed, sending a tremor through everyone.

Yes, their children. Their children who were too young to know about the wars, too innocent to realize that their parents had the blood of others creased permanently into their hands and their memories and their very souls. They, who mistakenly believed the streaks in the night sky to be shooting stars, and unknowingly made wishes on the broken debris of previous colonies and ships and mobile suits, on death itself. Their children still smiled freely and loved unconditionally because they had never found a reason not to.

"We'll tell them someday." Athrun stirred his tea. "In a way that'll make them stronger."

"It'll be all right," Kira added quietly. "Because knowing always brings courage."

The laughs of their children sounded up from the meadow, carefree in the wind. The four looked up at each other, taking in the faces of lifelong friends, and smiled together in the frame of a brilliant summer day.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Moving right along. Hope you enjoyed this glimpse of happy children in flowery meadows.

NEXT PHASE: The globe is constantly spinning and people are always moving but there are instances worth noting – still points in the turning worlds of their lives.


	48. FORTY EIGHT: all

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FORTY-EIGHT.<strong>

Kira and Cagalli always argued about which of them was older. Cagalli didn't like to be behind in anything, but Kira refused to hand away his authority on some whim, so they quarreled constantly. Eventually they came to the agreement that they must have been born precisely at the same time, and it worked.

x

In the middle of a Sunday dinner, Dearka came to a sudden conclusion about what was always bothering Yzak.

"Sexual frustration!" he snapped his fingers brightly. "I'm a genius! Yzak, all you need is the touch of a woman!"

Everyone at the table began to laugh before catching sight of Yzak's face. He had initially gone sheet-white, then colored to a bright red, and was on his way to turning a deep purple.

"Idiot!" he choked out as Dearka stood up and tapped his fork loudly against his glass. "Sit down, you dimwit!"

"Sorry to interrupt your meals," Dearka addressed the entire restaurant loudly. Most of the other eaters watched him curiously. "I am making a concerned request on the behalf of my dear friend here." He leaned down and slapped Yzak on the back amiably. "If anyone would be interested in taking this fine specimen out on a date, he is available on evenings, all week." At the myriad of bemused glances around the room, he lowered his voice in a mock whisper. "He just really needs to get laid."

"Stop it!" Yzak shouted, pulling forcefully at his hair in aggravation. "Sit down!"

x

Shinn's apology to Cagalli was not made with much fanfare. It happened during an uneventful dinner when they happened to end up sitting next to each other at the table. Cagalli passed him a courteous hello when she first took her seat, and he mumbled a response to his shoes that she did not hear.

Later in the evening, Shinn accidentally tipped over his glass of water while reaching for an extra fork. Cagalli lifted her arm away reflexively, but Shinn quickly grabbed hold of it in midair.

He looked her straight in the eyes, tightening his fingers around her forearm meaningfully. "Sorry."

She released a slow breath, and gently pried out of his grasp. "It's all right," she pronounced carefully. In a quieter voice, "I don't blame you."

Someone passed Cagalli a stack of paper towels, and she handed half to Shinn. "Let's clean up the spill together."

x

Athrun knew he had never been good with women. It wasn't anything he could help so he found ways to dart around the issue. One day he wondered if he was allowed to just write cards instead of face people to talk properly.

TO MIRIALLIA HAW: Sorry for assuming you were still with Dearka that first time we met again during the second war. Oh, and I regret killing your previous boyfriend. I didn't mean to, really. I hope it's okay.

TO MEYRIN HAWKE: Thanks for letting me use you as a human crutch around the Archangel while I was recovering. Cagalli said you liked me then. If that was true, sorry for manipulating your feelings like that. I truly didn't realize it.

TO LACUS CLYNE: Apparently things between us weren't meant to be. Honestly, what else did you want me to do? I brought you flowers, and made you Haros, listened to you drone about your singing and your hope, and didn't even try to make a move on you even though we were engaged since the beginning of time. Well, enjoy yourself with my best friend anyway.

TO MURRUE RAMIUS: I don't really have anything to apologize to you for, but I figured I might as well throw you in for good measure. Er, thanks for being such a proficient captain?

Athrun decided the idea was much better in his head.

x

While the girls crowded around Murrue to admire her ring ("Finally, it's official!") Mu was being congratulated vigorously.

"I'll have to keep her away from you, Kira," Mu commented offhandedly as the waitress wrote down everyone's usual orders.

Kira looked at him confusedly. "What do you mean?"

"I hear you have some experience stealing away fiancées," Mu explained cheerfully.

Kira's thoughts flashed to Sai and to Athrun and to Yuna, and he laughed genuinely. "I guess you're right."

x

Shinn hated the new soldier aboard his ship – a self-righteous pansy named Clive Norwich who always did things by the book and had the most irritating voice. Norwich had been a captain of a smaller, recently-decommissioned ship (probably had to have his father pull dozens of strings to get that position, Shinn thought darkly), and had been situated on the Faraday until his proper reassignment.

A month into his stay, Norwich failed to keep in the condescension for Shinn he had been trying to hide for weeks.

"Commander Asuka," he said while the ranking officers were having a meeting on the bridge. "I really think you should button up your collar." At Shinn's murderous glare he attempted to backtrack. "Out of respect to our nation and her military, I mean."

"Button up my collar? Like you?" Shinn countered. He could count on two hands the number of times he had actually bothered doing so after being promoted. "No, I don't think so. Maybe you should try leaving yours open," he suggested scathingly. "Perhaps then the stick that's lodged so firmly inside of you will come loose, and you might actually get a girlfriend."

Norwich gaped at him and couldn't say anything for the rest of the briefing. After two days, he was promptly transferred off the Faraday. Shinn still didn't fix his collar.

x

Mu and Murrue entered into the café with a ring of bells.

"I'm glad you could come," Lacus said graciously as the perfunctory round of greetings was through.

"This idea of weekly Sunday dinners sounded interesting," Mu shrugged. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in how everyone's been doing since the war ended."

"Yes, how have you been?" Cagalli faltered, unsure of how to address him. He'd been Major La Flaga, then Colonel Roanoke, then Colonel La Flaga last of all. What was he now?

Mu smiled openly at them and wound his arm tightly around the back of Murrue's chair. "Just Mu now."

x

"I told Athrun when he came to see me at the beginning of the war that I hoped the Minerva would play a role similar to that of the Archangel in the previous war."

Talia pursed her lips, silently studying the chairman's vague smile and piercing eyes, then looked outside at the roads of Diocuia. You don't want that, Gilbert, she thought. The Archangel was a traitor ship that sided with the renegade Three Ship Alliance. They took the most valued commanders and the top aces from both sides and behaved of their own volition, causing a fair amount of damage to the PLANTs.

"High expectations," she commented simply and said no more.

Much, much later, after Athrun defected and after the broadcast of the two Lacus Clynes and after the chairman revealed his ulterior motives, Talia wondered if that conversation so very long ago was giving her permission to follow in the shoes of Murrue Ramius and Andrew Waltfeld and lead her soldiers in a different direction. She passed over the thought quickly, even if it never strayed far from the forefront of her mind. She doubted her commanders and she doubted her country, but she was not a deserter.

x

Andy became a beloved mentor to the child of Mu and Murrue, who was happy and eager and affectionately called him 'uncle'. Andy taught him to swim and sail and climb, and when he was older, how to assemble a gun with a blindfold on and six different ways to win against a coordinator in hand-to-hand combat.

"I want to be just like the Desert Tiger!" the boy said enthusiastically, carefully examining the medals and ribbons hidden in the bottom drawer of Andy's dresser.

Andy only ruffled his hair tenderly in response. I wouldn't let you, he said to himself. He didn't think anyone would ever want to be a scarred, lonely soldier who had lost his very will to fight.

x

Shinn used to compare his abilities to those of others obsessively. He gloated for weeks about destroying the Freedom, but then became confused when Athrun beat him soundly, twice. None of the ends tied together because he was supposed to be the fastest, the greatest, the most powerful and suddenly he wasn't.

After the war he didn't dwell on it any longer. For all he knew, even that Colonel La Flaga who used to pilot the Akatsuki could beat him. In the end, it didn't matter, any of it.

That wasn't true strength, he realized.

x

The days passed. One foot in front of the other: hour after hour, month after month, year after year. There are gaps in the pattern, breaks in the monotony. They are few and very far in between, but they are there. A strong cup of coffee. The breezes off the sea. Damp grass, warm sun, rough sand – still points in the turning worlds of their lives.

One foot in front of the other endlessly.

x

Kira ran the white fabric carefully through his fingers. "Nice dress," he murmured, and both he and Cagalli were reminded strongly of a similar occasion many years previous when she was also getting married.

"Yes, isn't it?" Cagalli said tremulously through a wave of unbidden tears.

"There's time, still," Kira offered. "We escaped from your wedding once and we can do it again."

She laughed, and Kira felt better instantly. "Freedom's not close at hand, though."

Kira shrugged. "I can have a car here in less than two minutes, if you want."

Cagalli wiped away the dampness from her face. "I don't, though." She exhaled bracingly and leaned into the back of her chair. "I'm just a little scared."

"Of change?"

"Yes."

Kira crouched down to be at eye-level with her. "Why?"

"Things fall apart often, after marriage." Cagalli fiddled with the engagement ring on her finger before taking it off and placing it carefully into a satin-lined box. She would be getting a new ring very soon. "It's been so nice these past years and I can't help but feel as if those happy days are going to end once today is over."

"Your feelings for each other won't be different just because of this step in a new direction," Kira told her, pulling her closer into a tight embrace. "I'm sure of it."

Cagalli smiled into his shoulder. "I suppose you're right." After they pulled apart, she elbowed his side teasingly. "So, when are you and Lacus finally going to set the date?"

x

They faced each other in the empty hallway, at a silent standstill where neither said anything.

"I want to do this," Shinn spoke up at last. "For real."

"We've tried." Lunamaria answered sharply. "Or at least, I have. And the pieces never fit together."

"They will," he protested, taking a step toward her. She took one backwards in the other direction.

"Four years, Shinn. On and off, hot and cold. I can't do it anymore." Lunamaria looked away from him, distressed. "It's too much, even for me."

"Not for me." There was sudden steel in Shinn's voice. "Luna, I know we can make this work if we both try our best at the same time." Noticing her shoulders dropping slightly, he pushed further. "One chance. You can't run from this."

She stood wordlessly, felt her breathing even out and took in Shinn's pleading face and troubled eyes. "One chance," she told him shortly, ignoring his outstretched hand, and then he was left alone in the middle of a hallway that remained empty.

x

Lacus did not submit her name for re-election after serving as chairwoman for six years. Cyril Nikos took her position, and she stepped down to the post of mediator. After eight months of continued peace and prosperity, she resigned from the public service for good and returned to Orb.

Kira opened the door of their new house, an open bungalow with wide windows and the comforting sound of waves from outside.

"We're home." Lacus grasped his hand loosely, and they stepped inside together.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> This is basically snippets of scenes that have darted around in my mind for the nearly three months that I have been writing SPTW. I filed away the basic prompts for this chapter in a document with my other plot bunnies, and each time I read over them I got more and more excited to write them in full.

Here they are, at last! I hope you all enjoyed them, as always. If anyone was wondering, this is the longest chapter in the complete story. Let me know what you thought of the update.

NEXT PHASE: They're back to the beginning again, and there isn't anything left to do about it.


	49. FORTY NINE: all

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FORTY-NINE.<strong>

It was Kira who broke the absolute silence. "Are you sure?" he asked evenly.

"Positive." Cagalli massaged her temple with her left hand.

"Not again," Shinn spoke up, his voice firm. Everyone's heads turned to look at him in surprise, but he only raised his own higher. "We can't allow it."

"To counter it would mean to react in a similar manner," Andy observed. "Which is precisely what we want to avoid."

"But what are we to do? Tensions are rising around the globe," Athrun recounted tiredly. "The African Community is constantly feuding with the South African Union. Small-scale riots throughout the United States of South America are growing exponentially in severity. The Eurasian Federation continues to pressure the Kingdom of Scandinavia. They're all problems we've seen before and yet it's different this time."

"They're more focused, aren't they?" Dearka tapped a finger on the table ponderingly. "That's dangerous. Even the largest fires start as small sparks."

Lacus twisted her hands together in her lap. "It seems we have forgotten too soon the losses incurred the last time this happened."

"I'll admit I'm not in the loop anymore, but I haven't heard anything serious about these issues," Mu interjected. "How can you be certain?"

"ZAFT has sources among the insurgents at the hotspots by the Horn of Africa." Yzak answered briskly.

"Scandinavia keeps Orb informed of the interactions with Eurasia," Cagalli continued. "And Miriallia was in South America for intelligence two days ago."

Miriallia pulled out photos of masses of people and the devastating wreckage of roadside bombs for everyone to see. "The government's working media damage control nonstop and travel in and out is extremely limited. It's not shocking that the news haven't leaked yet."

Murrue rested her forehead in her hands. "This is too much. We all thought we were past this already."

Cagalli gathered the courage to say what she had been meaning to, quickly scanning over the expressions of those surrounding her. They ranged from overwhelmed to slightly panicked to angry. "I'm having the ships and mobile suits moved from Onogoro."

There was another long silence during which no one dared breathe. "To the holding chamber under Murrue's house," Cagalli persisted.

A cold dread swept over the table with her words. The problems weren't distant anymore; they were pressing and real and trailing them at every bend in the path. And the Archangel and Eternal were being moved from storage after years – for accessibility, they all realized.

"What does this mean?" Lunamaria asked quietly.

"We haven't left the battlefield after all." Kira moved his distant gaze to the soft rain outside the windows and no one said anything for a very long time afterwards.

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> Ahh! Only one update left; I can hardly believe it!

I feel like all I do in these end-of-chapter notes is gush about how quickly time is passing and how far we've come. But truly, every time I put up another chapter of SPTW, I think that we are closer and closer to the end, which makes me all sorts of sad. And yet happy too, because I can hardly wait for the day a few months from now when I can kick back and read this from beginning to end with the amazing GS/GSD soundtrack playing in the background. (The chapters are a little too fresh for me to properly enjoy the experience at the current time.)

Please allow me to extend my sincerest thanks as we move into the final chapter. I appreciate each and every reader who takes the time and leaves a review or messages me about the story. All of you have helped shape STPW a great deal.

NEXT PHASE: Why is it that they can sit there so peacefully, so normally, can smile and eat and talk laugh? Wars never end.


	50. FIFTY: all

**category:** Gundam SEED

**disclaimer:** I don't own it.

* * *

><p><strong>FIFTY.<strong>

They had come far, but they had still farther to travel.

At some time each of them had fallen apart. The thin cracks that ran through them (cracks in their beliefs, in their understanding of the world around them, cracks in their strength and will and their very character) had at once joined together and brought everything down to ruins.

But they went in with spades and mortar and laid the broken bricks into semblances of entirety. There were sections that remained missing, or parts that were damaged beyond usage, but everyone made do. A layer of ashes over the pieced-together debris to seal the smallest gaps, and the haphazard construction could pass as complete. Or from a distance, at least.

Dearka teased. Yzak snapped. Miriallia soothed even as she smiled at the jab. "Cut it out, Dearka."

Murrue glowed contentedly. Mu threw his arm around their friend's shoulders. Andy scoffed triumphantly. "I told you I would make you the best cup of coffee someday. You two are just a little more particular than most."

Lunamaria laughed with her head tossed back. Shinn sulked. "I didn't realize he was a lieutenant general, or I wouldn't have made him apologize for bumping into me." Yzak interrupted the conversation abruptly. "Funnily enough, even I have heard about that. Have some sense and look at his badge the next time, Asuka."

"And then he got me a dog to try and make up for forgetting my birthday, but Kisaka was allergic!" Cagalli said indignantly. Athrun embarrassedly studied his shoes. Kira chuckled. Lacus beamed from behind her tea cup. Cagalli continued to glare at Athrun.

The moments passed, and everyone found themselves back in reality. The all-pervading shadows returned: the ceaseless specters – of incompetency, loss, responsibility – that weighed on their shoulders and their spirits. The shadow of failure, which meant death. Smiles dissipated. They'd been broken before and there wasn't anything to stop them from breaking again. So they worked constantly, tirelessly to keep themselves together, if only for another week or day.

It was all right. They could still sit together in peace, and smile and eat and talk and laugh in twelve-part harmony. Time passed even if the seconds were slow to tick. They were jigsaw puzzles of pieces that didn't fit anymore, and their cracks weren't filled easily with chalky ashes, but there was something to be said about the warmth of friendship as they attempted to do so all the same.

x

It was a silent Sunday evening, rain pattering lightly on the rooftop and the dark sidewalks outside. Cagalli turned her head away from dreams of faraway seas and golden suns and faced everyone at the table, gaze unfocused and voice distant.

"We're lost, aren't we? Then let's travel. Let's go wonder at things. At the height of mountains, at the compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars. Why are we settling halfway to happiness?"

No one answered anything. She'd done it, said out loud what no one else had even thought to do. Cagalli's sober introspectiveness melded into the gray mood seamlessly, and suddenly everyone was imagining winding rivers and lofty trees.

Athrun grasped her hand. "Cagalli?"

She shrugged. "Maybe, somewhere along the way, we'll run into ourselves without realizing it."

* * *

><p><strong>notes:<strong> THE END.

My last request as we close this final chapter is for all readers to leave a review. It doesn't matter if you've reviewed diligently for the past few months or if you've lurked invisibly. Writing is by no means a thankless task, but it has certainly felt like a long haul from the first update until now. Please, please, take a moment and tell me something or anything.

One of my concluding statements is an expression of the sincerest gratitude to those of you who have indeed reviewed through SPTW's history. Your thumbprints cover this story as much as mine do. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Your support has been greatly valued. I wish I could return the favor one hundred times over.

As for future projects, I do have the loose threads of a much longer story lingering around. I would very much like to write it, but owing to current time constraints, it might be up to eight months until I am able to post regularly as any WIP deserves. To those interested, it would be a full-blown Athrun/Cagalli, in a medieval-esque setting, with the full cast as supporting characters.

I hope STILL POINTS IN TURNING WORLDS brought some happiness into readers' lives. Thank you.


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